The Secret Spaces
by Cherylann Rivers
Summary: A case that Fenton Hardy and his sons start to work on soon comes to parallel another, very closely related situation in their personal lives. As patterns emerge, Frank and Joe realize they may well lose those closest to them in a case of art imitating life... imitating art. The clues lie in the secret spaces, both literal and figurative, in a race against time.
1. Chapter 1

**Note:** _This is a follow up story to "First Encounters" in the loosest sense. You do not have to have read that story, which is NOT a mystery, to understand this one, although several scenes and incidents are alluded to. FYI- The story takes place about 6 months after "First Encounters" left off. Here, Frank and Callie are married and Callie is pregnant; Joe and Vanessa are married; and Callie has a best friend named Johnny whom she met in college. The boys are 25 and 26 years old. The story, as with all of my others, is completed in full and is 27 chapters long. I'll be posting a chapter every 3-4 days. Thank you in advance for reading and reviews, which are always much appreciated and let me know people are reading. I hope you enjoy!_

Also, just wanted to give a quick shout out to the many talented authors on this site. I am sure I am missing some, but a quick shout out to AllieDee, ErinJordan, PaulinaAnn, SnowPrincess88, Jilsen, Ulstergirl, Red Hardy, and TinDog, a really immensely talented author. If you haven't read their stories, please consider doing so. They are all amazing!

 **The Secret Spaces**

Chapter 1

 _"_ _We dance round in a ring and suppose,_

 _But the Secret sits in the middle and knows."-Robert Frost_

"And I thought putting together a car was hard!" 25 year old Joe Hardy quipped to his older brother, Frank, as he surveyed the room around him with wonder.

"Tell me about it," Frank answered, stopping to put down the screwdriver and wrench neatly back into the toolbox in front of him. "But it came out pretty well, huh?'

"It sure did," Joe replied as he plopped the final pillow into place on the now completed crib. Turning to his brother, he smiled. "I'm sure Callie will love it," he continued, referring to his brother's wife, who was now just seven months pregnant with their first child.

"I hope so," Frank responded, somewhat wistfully.

Joe slung an arm around his brother's shoulders. "I still can't believe you're going to be a dad! It's kind of crazy! I feel like it was just yesterday we were kids, ourselves. And now we're all grown up," Joe shook his head, "and spending an entire weekend putting together this nursery instead of going to a game or watching football or … well, anything other than this stuff which makes me feel old!" He gave Frank a quick affectionate pat on the back before looking at the room again.

He suddenly shook his head disdainfully.

"What?" Frank questioned. "And before I forget to tell you, I really appreciate all of your help with this."

"No worries. You paid me in beer and pizza," Joe teased. "I was just thinking. Only you and Callie could make a nursery look so...tasteful. Aren't there supposed to be bright primary colors all around?" He surveyed the room, with its now completed cherry furniture and color scheme of light beiges, browns, and greens. "I'm telling you- when Van and I have kids, it will be an explosion of, like, Sesame Street, in the most obnoxious colors ever. You're only a kid once. You might as well have fun with it!"

Frank laughed in spite of himself. "Do you really think a baby is going to care about the color scheme?" he questioned. "Besides, one- we don't know if we're having a boy or a girl, and two- when ARE you and Van going to get on the kid bandwagon? You guys have been married six months already."

"Whoa there!" Joe interrupted. "Slow down, bro. We'll get there. You and Cal haven't even been married two years!" Then, he added, "although it would be nice to have our kids grow up close in age." He cleared his throat as the reality that his brother was going to be a dad hit him again. He playfully punched Frank's shoulder. "I still can't believe it."

"Me, either," Frank added with a soft smile.

"Your kid is gonna be so lucky, though."

"Why is that?" Frank queried, knowing Joe too well.

"He or she is going to have an amazing uncle," Joe said with a straight face, as Frank rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, that's why we decided to have a child. Thanks again for that motivation," Frank replied, dryly.

"Besides," Joe continued dramatically, "you also haven't told me the possible names." He pointed ahead, where Frank and Callie had wanted to leave a space to put the baby's name on the wall. "I mean, is it Joseph, Joey… just plain Joe? Or maybe Jo Ann, Joelle, Joan?"

Frank started laughing. "You forgot Josephine," he added.

"Damn," Joe replied. "I knew I had left one out!" He turned to his brother. "Anyway, this room is really kind of cute, in a stuffy, old people sort of way. Not to worry- Uncle Joe will get lots of toys for the kid." Joe picked up the toolbox as he and Frank headed out of the room and started for the downstairs family room. "And while we are completely NOT on this topic," Joe went on, "Did Dad mention anything to you about why he wanted to see us tonight?"

"No," Frank answered as he followed Joe through family room into the garage, where Joe put the toolbox down and picked up some soda. "I think he's been working on one case for a while, and that's why he's been out of the office so long," he went on, referring to the successful detective agency that both he and Joe, along with their father, ran. "He probably wants to run it by us, and I think that he and Mom probably thought it would be easier on Callie to just come over here and have dinner rather than having us all go out. I think he felt a little bad he hasn't been able to help as much with the stuff for the baby as he'd like to since he's been so busy. I guess they'll be here within a half hour or so."

"Can you see dad and mom as grandparents?" Joe asked with a chuckle. "It's so weird!"

"It's a little odd, yes," Frank answered as they headed back into the house.

"When are Callie and Vanessa coming back?" Joe asked. "If their goal was to have Callie not leave the house, they went wrong somewhere!"

"They just went to pick up the food," Frank answered. "They'll be back any minute."

As if they had heard them, the front door opened, and both Vanessa and Callie entered, multiple bags in their hands. As soon as they started to come through the door, Joe and Frank reached for the bags.

"Thanks!" Vanessa said as she leaned over to give Joe a kiss.

Frank gave Callie a quick peck on the cheek. "I'm going to get the dinner ready... Relax!" he said with a smile before disappearing into the kitchen.

"I'll help!" Vanesa called after him and gave Joe a hug before following Frank.

Joe instinctively helped Callie remove her jacket as she shook her head. "Thanks, Joe," she said with a smile. "But I'm fine- really. Just, you know- pregnant! Everyone can calm down. Frank gets nervous if I'm out of his sight for an hour if I'm not at work."

Joe gave Callie a quick hug and stepped back to look at her, unable to stop smiling.

"What?!" Callie asked, raising her eyebrows. "Or should I even ask?"

Joe looked at her affectionately. "You're a really cute little pregnant person," he replied with a smile. It was true. Callie had always been really beautiful, but ever since she started to show, she really did exude that 'pregnancy glow' that he had heard people speak about. Always petite, she remained slim everywhere, except for her stomach.

"Little?"" Callie repeated with a laugh. "I don't think so!" She patted her belly.

"You look great, Cal," Joe replied, seriously, helping her to the couch despite her protest that she was fine.

"Oh my gosh," Callie spoke with a sigh. "I've gained 15 pounds, and the doctor says I could gain as many as 10 more in the next two months. I can't even imagine. It's like carrying around a really heavy bowling ball as it is!"

Joe laughed. "I don't think that's much weight to gain at all, Cal. Besides, it's all for little Joe, right?" he teased.

"Right," Callie said. "As long as little Joe the boy - or Jo the girl - is okay," she replied with a straight face.

"It's just so weird that you have a little person inside of you," Joe added. "It's…" Again, he felt himself get emotional. "It's pretty amazing, I mean."

Callie leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "And you will be an amazing uncle! I won't tell Johnny if you don't-I think we both know who the #1 uncle will be. But I didn't say that!" Callie was referring to her best friend since college, Jonathan Gellers, who, like Joe, was incredibly excited about her having a baby.

"Yeah , well," Joe grumbled, "as long as you don't forget that."

"I will," Callie said gently. "Don't worry. You're my #2 guy, remember?"

Joe felt better and smiled, remembering a conversation he had had with Callie a year ago about the very same topic. While Joe liked Johnny a lot, he was proud of the sibling relationship he had with Callie, one that had taken many years to cultivate. He just wanted to make sure that his sister remembered who would love her child with his brother more than anyone other than them. "Yeah, I remember."

"Good," Callie said with a wink. "Anyway, you know that Johnny is taking Vanessa and I into the city to go to the set of his show in a few days, and I'm excited! It'll probably be one of the last things I can do for a while before walking gets even more tedious. He's coming tomorrow to spend a few days with Frank and I before we go to Manhattan. It'll be a fun week!"

"Yeah, well- make sure Vanessa gets her Johnny obsession done and over with before she comes back, okay?" Joe stated with a sigh. Johnny was an award winning actor on a hit television show that was steadily climbing in the ratings, with the season one finale just wrapped up and set to air in a few days. He was also, Joe grudgingly had to admit, a really good looking guy who always had flocks of women falling at his feet. And Vanessa was probably #1 on his fan club list, although, after knowing him several years now, she had started to see him as just a genuinely nice guy who happened to be famous.

"Joe?" Callie's voice snapped him from his train of thought, and her dark eyes met his blue ones. "I remind you- he's gay."

"I know," Joe admitted, knowing he sounded silly and jealous.

"And," she went on further, "Other than Frank, of course, and you and Van, he is my best friend in the world. And he happens to be really good friends with Frank. Plus, the two of you are friends, too- although you're nuts when you're together," she added, alluding to the crazy bachelor party he and Joe had thrown for her and Frank in Bermuda two years ago. "So be happy that he's coming. He would be glad to have you on the set, too, if you'd like. You know that." She stood up and affectionately ruffled Joe's hair.

"Yeah, well," Joe muttered, "I guess you're right. But don't forget- Frank and I did the nursery!"

"Of course," she said, eyes twinkling. "And I cannot wait to see it! Thank you," she continued. Then, she added, "I'll be sure to keep nasty old Johnny out of that room so he doesn't take any credit away from all of your hard work and try to rearrange anything." She stifled a laugh.

Joe glared at her "Shaw…"

"It's been HARDY for almost two years now!" she replied with a laugh. "I'm going to go help Frank with dinner and send Van out here." At that moment, the doorbell rang. "Do me a favor and let your parents in! We'll be right there." She squeezed his shoulder and headed into the next room.

Joe looked after her and felt a smile tug at his lips. He was grateful, once again, that Callie and he had grown to be very close over the years, despite the fact that they still drove each other crazy on occasion.

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After dinner was over, Fenton asked the boys to come with him into the living room for a little while while dessert was being prepared.

"Uh oh! Guess it's business time," Vanessa said as she stood to wash the dishes.

"Stop!" Callie said, reaching for her arm and pulling her back down. She turned to her mother in law as well. "You, too, Laura. I'm perfectly capable of doing dishes. You're our guests. Relax!"

"There are no guests with family, honey," Laura responded kindly. "And we'll all do the dinner dishes in a little bit- provided you encourage both of my sons to do them after the dessert, as they have been taught to do!"

Callie smiled. "Deal."

"Oh, Laura," Vanessa sighed happily. "Isn't this so exciting?! I can't wait for the baby shower next month and then to be an aunt! And you're going to be a grandma! It's only a little over eight weeks away. Isn't it surreal?"

"It's certainly a wonderful time for all of us," Laura agreed. "My baby is having a baby. It puts a lot in perspective." She turned to Vanessa. "And rest assured when that time comes for you and Joe, we will be equally thrilled."

Vanessa smiled brightly. "I don't know when that time will be, but we're taking at least a little while for just us both right now. But don't worry- once we start we'll have like ten in a row!"

Laura started laughing. "You're just like Joe!" she noted, always impressed by Vanessa's ebullience.

"Isn't being pregnant exciting?" Vanessa asked Callie.

"Well… sure," Callie said slowly.

Laura studied her. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?" she asked.

Callie responded with a small smile. "Fine. Everything's great."

Laura put her arm around her. "I know it's hard, Callie. Everything's changing- your body feels as if it doesn't belong to you anymore; it can be physically painful. No one seems to ask how YOU are- it's always all about the baby. You're probably scared about how a child will affect your relationship with your husband. It's all overwhelming… and it's completely normal."

Vanessa watched in surprise as Callie tried to wipe back tears that appeared out of nowhere. "Sorry," she choked out. "Thank you, Laura. Excuse me," she interrupted, and slowly got up. "I'll be back in a few minutes," she managed before turning and leaving the room.

"Wha-" Vanessa started. She stared at Laura. "How did you know all that? Callie hasn't even said anything like that to me! She always seems so happy. I… is she okay? I had no idea."

Laura patted Vanessa's hand. "You'll understand one day, Vanessa. Most women go through this when they're pregnant. It's not that hard to see that Callie's been struggling. Look at how she reaches for her back whenever she stands; how she grimaces slightly when she walks. Fifteen pounds is nothing for most people- I gained 40 with Frank and 45 with Joe. But she's petite, and 15 or 20 pounds on a 105 pound frame is a terrible stress on her body."

"I didn't realize…" Vanessa blushed, feeling bad.

"You couldn't have, honey. Don't feel bad. Remember, I've been pregnant, and I lived with detectives my whole life. I see things most people miss- it's a hazard of the job!" She smiled kindly. "Callie also has been looking away a lot when you talk to her, and, though she teases Frank about not giving her any space, if you look closely, she always wants to know that he's physically close by. She's very emotional, understandably, but unlike most people, she's very private. And knowing her and Frank as I do, I'm pretty certain they're both trying to maintain a facade for each other that they're totally confident and ready to take this on- because they're ALWAYS like that. But no one is prepared for a baby, and she's going to need a lot of support, especially when Frank isn't here. Frank at least has work to distract him, but Callie won't as of next week. And she has to know it's okay to have doubts and fears. It doesn't mean she's a bad person or won't love her baby. In fact, I cannot imagine more caring, conscientious, and adoring parents than Frank and Callie- until you and Joe have children, of course."

"She's like my sister," Vanessa said at last. "I don't know what I'd do without her. I'll have to try harder to get her to open up." She reached over and hugged Laura. "You are going to be the BEST grandma, Laura. You raised two amazing sons. I'm so lucky to have you in my life."

Laura returned the hug, grateful as always for Vanessa's warmth and openness, and went to stand up. "Thank you, sweetheart. My two amazing sons married two amazing women, and now I have two amazing daughters. Come on- let's get the dishes done!" she quipped. "'Type A' Frank and Callie can't handle the mess."

"They'd better learn to deal with messiness!" Vanessa laughed.

"And that is _exactly_ why you will make a great mom one day!" Laura answered fondly as the two women rose to start the chore.

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"Boys, I'm sorry to bother you tonight about this, but I think I may need your help," Fenton began, comfortably settling into the couch in Frank's living room.

"Don't you want to see the nursery first?" Joe interrupted, and Fenton laughed in spite of himself. Joe was just as excited as Frank was about the baby, and ALMOST as excited as he, himself, was, he thought amusedly.

"Of course. Sure- let's go." He followed his sons upstairs and felt nostalgic. He could barely believe that he was going to be a grandpa soon. "You both did an excellent job," he said proudly, unable to stop the smile from forming on his lips. "It's all pretty exciting." He put an arm around Frank. "Your life is never going to be the same, son," he told Frank, fondly. "And I couldn't be happier for you."

"Thanks, Dad," Frank replied with a shy smile. "Yeah, we're pretty excited."

"It took the whole weekend to put all these pieces of furniture together," Joe lamented, half teasing.

"Wait until the Christmas when the baby gets older," Fenton told Joe.

"But Santa does all that work," Joe answered with a straight face, eyes big.

"Mmmm," Fenton murmured. "Well, sometimes parents - and UNCLES- have to help. Santa has a lot of places to get to and only one night to do it, so sometimes parents have to help with putting things together. It's one of the secrets of adulthood and I thought it was an appropriate time to let you know."

"Oh. Thanks, Dad. As long as we know. Thanks for not telling us 'til now."

"You're welcome," Fenton said seriously as Frank shook his head at his brother. Despite their vastly different personalities, he was impressed as always by how close his sons were; how much they cared about each other.

"Come on. Let's go downstairs and talk for a bit. I hate to put a damper on this very nice night, but I have a serious case and I may need you- not just for your thoughts, but I may physically need you to come with me for a few days to check out some leads." He turned to Frank when they reached the living room. "I know you hate to leave Callie at all right now, but it won't be for more than three or four days. It might just work out anyway, since isn't Johnny supposed to be coming here tomorrow?"

Frank nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah- he is. I guess as long as he's here and that I can be reached in an emergency, it should be fine."

Fenton squeezed Frank's shoulder, proud of the fine young men that both of his sons had become. Their fierce loyalty to family and friends, and their palpable love for their spouses, reminded him again that he and Laura - probably mostly Laura- had done something good in their lives. "So let's talk."

He motioned for them to take a seat.

"Over the course of the last four months, there have been a series of murders in various parts of the state. In and of itself, that's not good. But this case has several components that lead us to believe that they're all connected in some way. We know they are."

"Who's 'us'?" Joe asked.

"The state police. The FBI. The Bayport PD. Ezra Collig and I have been working on it, but we don't have much. Normally, of course, the FBI wouldn't be involved, but it looks like we may be dealing with a serial murderer."

"How'd you get involved?" Frank asked.

"Ads have been taken out in the online and paper versions of the Bayport Times," he began. "Liz Webling's father happens to be the editor in chief, and notified Collig that something looked wrong. That got us started."

"What did the ads say?" Joe asked.

"First, they're all addressed to 'BD' and signed 'AC.' So obviously they're coming from one person- maybe two- at this point. Each ad taunts the reader- whomever BD is- to figure out the clues. Following the placement of the ad, exactly one week later, a person has been found dead- in the exact same way."

"Which is?" Frank asked.

"They've been found in the woods having been beaten and starved- ultimately, they die from exposure to the elements and a gunshot wound."

"What?" Joe asked, confused.

Fenton sighed. "It looks as if the people were taken prisoner, at which time they were found to be malnourished and dehydrated. They were then set loose in the woods for some reason, and escape was probably near to impossible because they had all been shot or harmed in either the arm or the leg."

"So they were bleeding out the whole time that they were trying to run," Joe concluded.

"Yes. Exactly," Fenton concurred.

"So what do the ads say, and who were the victims?" Frank asked.

 _"_ _They all say 'To BD. Here is your clue. It's all about what you do. The secret spaces will speak to you. From, AC."_

"What the hell does that mean?" Joe asked. "They're all like that?"

"But what's the clue?" Frank added. "I mean, there are different people who died. How can you stop them if you don't know anything else?"

"Well, there's more," Fenton went on. "Each ad starts with a number. And listen to the victims' names."

"Go on," Frank encouraged.

"Alice Conway- from Albany. Beatrice Donover- Brighton. Cathy Eisner- Cotning. See it? 1, 2, 3…"

"A,B,C," Frank finished. "Yeah, I see it. First names are A,B, and C and last names are C, D, and E. Plus, the towns all start with the same letters; they're all from New York."

"They're all women," Joe added thoughtfully. "Anything else in common?"

"Ages vary," Fenton said. "But that's strange, too, because the first victim was 12. Then 22. Then 32."

"But why advertise only the in Bayport Times?" Joe asked thoughtfully. "So you need us to look at the latest ad- when did it come out, Dad?" Joe asked again.

"Three days ago," Fenton answered.

"And then you need us to help figure out a D town in New York where there's a woman, who's 42, whose name starts with a D for a first name and an F for a last name," Frank said quietly. "And then figure out the meaning of the ad, why Bayport, and what BD and AC mean."

"Pretty much," Fenton sighed. "Don't forget a wooded area. I know- it's unbelievably broad. But if the pattern is right, the someone is in grave danger right now, and we need to get on this right away."

Frank took out his iPhone and started silently mouthing something as he flipped through the internet connection. Joe and Fenton just watched, used to Frank's thoughtful method of analysis.

Finally, he spoke. "There are 31 towns in New York that start with D. 31, Dad. How are we supposed to cover all of that in 4 days?"

"I know," Fenton agreed. "I actually know that number, too. I figured we could split up- deal with the police in 10 or 11 towns each. The FBI agents will help and Frank can assist them with narrowing down databases that contain all of the populace's information, including names and ages. It's a huge job, but are you boys up for it?"

"Of course!" Joe responded and Frank nodded seriously.

"We start tomorrow," Fenton added. "Okay, guys. Let's go and get dessert. Then, your mom and I will leave so you can explain to your wives why you won't be around for a few days."

Fenton hoped his voice exuded the confidence he had tried to convey. Deep down, something about this whole case felt very wrong, and he couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to get much darker in the days ahead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note:** T _hank you all very much for the reviews-they made my day. And I appreciate the follows and those reading as well. Thank you so much to Caranath, TinDog, Merry W, Paulina Ann, ulstergirl, Jilsen, and max2013. I hope you all continue to enjoy! :)_

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 2

At 10:00 the next morning, there was a knock on the front door. Callie got up excitedly and flung the door open wide.

"Johnny!" she exclaimed joyfully, a smile lighting up her face.

"Hello, my love!" he answered, enclosing her in his arms and holding her tightly. "I've missed you so much!"

He pulled away to gaze at her for a minute before hugging her again and giving her a series of kisses on her cheek. "It's so good to see you again." He broke away and smiled as he looked at her. "How beautiful do you look?! My best friend's having a baby!" he sang out.

He reached behind him and pulled in his luggage, immediately closing the door and locking it. When Callie looked at him quizzically, he shrugged, a grin on his handsome face. With twinkling green eyes, he winked at her. "What? Your husband texted me about ten times and asked me to take care of you, make sure that everything was safe, call him in case of an emergency, apologize for not being here, say he was looking forward to seeing me… When did he get so chatty?" Johnny joked.

"He left this morning, early. Sorry if he's driving you nuts. He's in fierce overprotective mode lately," she explained, taking his hand and leading him to the couch, where she already had a drink waiting for him.

"When did that start?" Johnny asked, taking a sip of Cherry Coke, his favorite. "Or let me guess- about eight months ago. Is that about right?"

Callie laughed. "Yeah. Something like that."

"Nah- he's not driving me crazy. I love that he loves you so much. I appreciate you guys letting me stay here. You've done a lot of updating since I was here last. I can't wait to see the place!"

"You're always welcome here, Johnny. You know that. Besides, this works out perfectly. The show is filming in New York in a few days and it gives us a perfect opportunity to catch up. I miss you. You're in L.A. most of the time, and Facetime and texting don't really make up for it," she said, so glad to have him there.

"Yeah, we had lots of good times, huh?" he agreed, squeezing her hand.

"And now look at you!" Callie said proudly. "The show is incredible. I'm hooked! Isn't it funny that I married a detective and now you play one on tv?!" She smiled tenderly at him. "And now you're used to the fame and fortune, huh? I'm so happy for you. No one deserves it more."

Johnny continued to smile at her. "It's not all it's cracked up to be, Cal! And I don't want to hear it from Frank if you end up as my secret pregnant girlfriend on some tabloid this week. It's disconcerting that you never know if you're being watched, no matter how many precautions you take. So Frank was right- and me being here with you could actually be a great thing or cause you a little heartache. If that's the case, I apologize. I'll try to look as nondescript as possible and not let on that I'm here. I THINK I've gotten away with it so far." He sighed ruefully. "It's stupid I even have to think about this. I just want to act, you know?"

"Well, you're a _wonderful_ actor," Callie replied finally. "And I'm really sorry you're going through this. But you have to admit-a hit tv show, being named one of _People's_ Top 50 "Sexiest Men Alive", and being the spokesman for _Guess_ cologne is kind of exciting."

Johnny blushed. "I guess," he replied. "I… Cal, I kind of wanted to talk to you about some things. I wanted to wait until Frank was here, since it kind of involves the two of you- but I only have a few days, and if he's not back… I just wanted to…" his voice trailed off.

"Are you okay, Johnny?" she asked, concerned. Although she and Johnny had had many serious talks over the years, the vast majority of the time he was fun loving, a little crazy, and lighthearted.

"Yes. I am," he said at last. "Later?"

"Of course," she added. "Whenever you want." Looking at her friend, she told him, "Why don't you go upstairs and rest up? You know where the guest room is. Oh! And stop and see how Frank and Joe set up the nursery."

Johnny stood up. "Can I help you with anything while I'm here? You know I'm pretty handy."

"Just relax," she answered.

"Come on, Cal. Make me feel useful. I have a bunch of gifts for the baby in the car," he added.

"Relax," she emphasized again. "And you did NOT need to do that. Besides, Vanessa will be here in a few hours and you know it always takes her a good hour before she realizes that you're not Jonathan Gellers, A -list extraordinaire, and you're just Johnny, closet video game addict, chess nerd, Oakland Raiders fan, and typical guy."

Johnny quickly sat down by her again. "Thanks for remembering that, Cal. You're the only person anymore who really knows that stuff." He placed a hand on her stomach. "I can't believe you're going to be a mommy soon."

They looked at each other, an unspoken soft and oddly sad silence filling the air. "Okay. Well, now I _know_ we need to talk tonight. Okay?"

Callie nodded. "Maybe I can convince you to tell me how the finale will end? Or will you make me wait with the rest of the world?" she asked, changing the subject.

Johnny smiled, grateful for the reprieve but relieved to be with Callie again, where he could be himself with no judgement. He stood again and grabbed his bags. "I'll see what I can do. But if I gave _you_ the info, Vanessa would never forgive me, right?"

Callie laughed. "Probably."

"I may have to watch the finale with the both of you tomorrow and see if we can guess what happens."

"Guess?" Callie inquired. "Johnny, you were _in_ it!"

He smiled, eyes twinkling. "Cal, we had to film four different endings. They don't tell me which one they pick until it's edited. Heck, I don't even know what'll happen. Maybe they'll kill me off- who knows?"

"No way!" she replied. "I had no idea it worked that way."

"The life of a detective!" Johnny sighed dramatically and then chuckled. "I need my boys Frank and Joe here to tell me if I did an okay job with it. Okay, sweetheart," he finished. 'I'm going to go up for a little while to rest. It was a long flight. Then, you pick the restaurant you want to go to- my treat, of course. Just pick somewhere local. I have to deal with New York City in a few days and I have to save my energy til then. Okay?"

"Okay," she agreed and gave him a thumbs up sign.

"Love you!" Johnny called as he went upstairs.

"Love you, too," she mouthed to herself, contemplating exactly what Johnny wanted to tell her that was so important. Deciding not to worry about it at the moment, she got up and went into the kitchen to start on some home-made desserts. She missed Frank already and wondered what case he was working on, yet she had a sneaking suspicion she really didn't want to know. She smiled though and patted her stomach again as she felt her baby move, and wished Frank was there to feel it as well. It was such a sweet moment, and reminded her how excited she was to be pregnant. Scared- but excited. For some reason, though, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was... off… about the whole day.

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Joe sighed and looked at his watch. 7:00 p.m. Today had been nothing but an exercise in futility. He had spent half the day on the phones and with the police detectives, and tried to locate women in his ten towns who fit the appropriate age and letter name description. Somehow, even stranger, in one town, he had actually found by some weird coincidence a woman named Debbie Falking, who also happened to be 42 years old. It had been the miraculous needle in a haystack he had been looking for. Calling his father, he had been able to get several police officers and rush with them to Debbie Falking's house. And, when they had gotten there, there she was-in a bathrobe, watching TV with her family, and very much alive. He then had the awkward mission of trying to explain to her and her family why there was a slew of officers surrounding her house. Though she had been horrified, she wasn't mad, at least. And, based simply on the nature of her age and name, the Dannemora police department had decided to leave her under watch for a few more days.

Still, if she hadn't been taken yet, that meant she wasn't missing. And that also meant that she wouldn't fit the pattern of having been missing for a week before she would turn up. So, Joe realized he was down one day and had nothing to show for his efforts.

Picking up his cell phone, he dialed his brother. When Frank picked up on the third ring, Joe asked at once, "Any luck?"

"Nope," Frank answered. "I spent the whole day working on cracking recent files in the ten towns I had to see if there were any missing persons reports- nothing. I did find out that, in the three other cases, each of the women- and the girl- were reported missing by the second day."

"Well that's because, in most cases, people have to wait 48 hours before a missing persons report can even be filed," Joe reminded his brother before launching into an explanation of the wild goose chase he had spent the day on. "I wish I was back in Bayport," Joe finished. "It's a lot more fun to spend time with Vanessa than to hunt down dead bodies."

He heard his brother laugh on the other end of the line. "I wouldn't tell her that," Frank answered lightheartedly. "It doesn't exactly come off as a compliment."

"Hold on," Frank said to Joe. "I think Dad is trying to break through. I'll get him on a group chat. Hang on a sec."

Joe listened to some classic music playing idly in the background as Frank tried to connect the three of them.

"Hey, Dad," he heard Frank say. "I have Joe on the other line. What's up?"

Fenton's voice was serious. "I don't have great news," he started. "I don't know if this is anything. But two days ago, in Dryden, a man named David Fallon was reported missing. He hasn't been seen since. I also know that the topography there is heavily wooded. We might have a lead. See if you boys can get here as soon as you can. Joe, it'll take you about 2 hours; Frank, it'll be closer to 4. Are you okay to drive out here?"

"Yeah- sure," Frank responded, and Joe chimed in "yes."

"But a guy? The first three victims were women. Is his age-" Joe started, but was cut off by Fenton.

"Yes- he's 42. It's well worth looking into. I'm going to head over to his wife's house now and see what details I can get. I'll meet you both about midnight at the Best Western in the town. Be careful driving. The pattern is changing. I don't like it," he concluded.

"Me, either," Frank concurred. "See you guys later."

As Joe hung up the phone and started to look for the address for the hotel to enter into GPS, he had an overwhelming need to stop for a minute. Realizing that a woman right now was fearing for the safety of her husband, he was reminded again, as he was often in this job, of how precious life was. He texted quickly: " _Hey Van- heading to Dryden. Miss you and love you lots. Hope you're having fun with Cal and Johnny._ " He added an emoji heart.

It never hurt to tell people who you loved that you loved them. After all, anything could happen to anybody at any time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Note** : _Thank you all so much for the follows and the reviews. I love to hear what you all think! Thank you specifically to Jilsen, Red Hardy, SnowPrincess88, EastBlue, TinDog, ulstergirl, max2013, Caranath, and PaulinaAnn for the comments. I'll post the next chapter on Saturday. Hope you all enjoy!_

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 3

The next morning, Frank stretched and yawned as he got up. He had arrived at nearly 2:00 a.m. because of a bad accident on a major highway on the way to Dryden, and he hadn't even had a chance to see his father or brother. He glanced at his watch, noting it was just after 6:00, the normal time at which he was used to waking. He was accustomed to getting more than four hours of sleep, though.

Taking a moment to rub his eyes and contemplate whether coffee was being served at the downstairs breakfast area, he remembered that today was Callie's last day of work and she would be getting up now. Figuring he wouldn't wake her and eager to hear her voice, he dialed her cell phone number, and she picked up on the second ring.

"Hi, honey," she said. "How'd you make out last night?"

He smiled at the sound of her voice. "I'm okay. The case is pretty complex. At minimum, things are picking up and changing. I still need to catch up with Joe and dad for details today. Just wanted to wish you a happy last day of work. How's Johnny doing?"

He could almost picture the smile on Callie's face as he listened to her voice. "Oh, he's good. He took Van and I out to dinner last night and he was thrilled that no one recognized him. We're just hanging out today after work and then Van is coming over again. We're all going to watch the finale of the show together."

"Did you get Johnny to tell you the ending?"

"He doesn't even know! Can you believe that? I'll explain later. Anyway, tune in if you can. If you have questions, I have friends in high places who might be able to clear them up," she joked. "Johnny says he needs you to tell him if he played a detective properly."

Frank laughed. "He won awards for his portrayal, and all I've gotten is a pretty average paycheck for it, so I would tell him that I think he's doing just fine! Is Van done with the fangirl thing yet?" he asked.

Callie giggled. "Yeah. She settled down. There is one thing, though," she went on.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.

"I'm FINE," she replied. "Please don't worry. It's just that Johnny seems a little- off. He said he wanted to talk to both of us, but if you won't be back, he may need to just talk to me. I hope he's okay." She sounded somewhat apprehensive.

"Do you want me to call him later- maybe after you talk? If I can get free, I definitely will."

"Maybe. Yeah. Thanks, babe," she added.

"You're welcome. Anything else new? How's the baby?" he questioned. He was surprised when she paused before answering. "Cal?"

"Sorry," she said finally. "The baby is fine. I know it's only been a day- I just miss you. Be careful."

"I miss you, too," he answered, and he really did. "It's hard to concentrate on this case."

"Wanna talk about it?" she offered. "Or do you really not want me to know?"

"You don't want to know," he admitted. "But thanks. Listen, I'm have to get going. Please be careful in the city tomorrow. If you're tired, rest. Don't over exert yourself, honey. Tell Johnny I'm looking forward to seeing him. I just want to get back to Bayport and see you. I miss you- love you so much," he finished, unexpectedly emotional.

"That sounds great," Callie answered softly. "I'll be careful, so relax. I love you, too, babe. Bye." Frank hit the button on the phone and took a moment to reflect on how blessed he truly was. Here he was, married to his high school sweetheart and about to become a father. It was really still crazy to him how unpredictable life could be.

Two hours and three cups of coffee later, he finally met up with his brother.

"Did you get any sleep last night?" Joe asked, grabbing a plate and filling it high with pancakes and eggs.

"About four hours. I've had less," he answered. "How are you? So what do we know? Where's Dad?"

Joe sat next to him at a little table. "It's not going well. Dad spoke to Fallon's wife yesterday- she was really distraught. He apparently went to go to the store in town and never returned. Surveillance video shows him at the market and leaving with bags. Unfortunately, the bags were found by his car, which was left in the parking lot."

"Any video from the lot?" Frank asked, yawning.

"Want a pancake?" Joe asked. "And the answer to your question is no."

Frank shook his head. "So is the answer to yours. I had a protein shake, thanks."

Joe rolled his eyes and retorted, "You know, Frank, a recent survey just came out that said that people who drink lots of water and eat right and exercise have a 40% higher risk of boredom and still have 100% certainty of dying." He suppressed a smile.

Frank laughed. "You're ridiculous, do you know that?"

Joe just stuck out his tongue.

Before Frank could comment further, a solemn looking Fenton came into the cafe and, catching sight of them, ushered them quietly to follow him. Joe grabbed his plate and a cup of orange juice and followed Frank down the hallway into Fenton's room.

"You okay, Dad?" Frank asked.

Fenton sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Not really, no. Early this morning, the body of David Fallon was found in the woods outside the town. Everything except the time frame matches up. He was gone approximately 5 days instead of a week, but he was bruised, dehydrated, had not eaten, and was shot- again, he bled out. It's March, as you know, and New York is no joke at this time of year. It's cold out. I feel terrible that we couldn't stop this. The police captain is personally going to notify his wife right now."

Joe suddenly lost his appetite. "Well, we were definitely one-upped here," he said at last. "The time frame changed, and then so did the sex of the victim. It doesn't make any sense." Before he could continue his thought, Fenton's phone started ringing.

"Hardy," he said into it. Frank and Joe watched as he sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes with his hand. "Okay. Okay. Any difference? Hmmm. Yes- that's odd. Send the picture to my phone. Thanks, Ezra. I'm on it."

"What's the matter?" Joe asked.

Fenton said dejectedly, "The time frame is definitely escalating. The body of Fallon was just found, and, this morning, another ad appeared in the _Bayport Times_ again. As usual, it was sent online via a proxy server and it's untraceable."

"Same ad?" Frank queried and Fenton acknowledged it. "Here- Ezra sent a screenshot of the ad. Take a look."

Frank took the phone from his father and showed it to both his dad and Joe, telling them "Look here": "' _To BD. Here is your clue. It's all about what you do. The secret spaces will speak to you. From, AC."_

"This is odd," Joe cut in. "Look. If you compare this ad to the others, you see that the first one started at the top spot in the column. Then the next one went to spot two. The next one is spot three. Today's murder was spot four. But look- the one that Collig just called about… it's down after two spaces. That's weird. Could it just be a formatting error? Would Mr. Webling know that?"

Frank furrowed his brow. "That's a good catch, Joe. Let me make a call." He disappeared into the hallway.

Joe looked at his father. "So what now?"

Fenton was staring at the screen before he spoke. "This is also unusual. Look- remember how I told you that the ads were numbered? You can see it here." Fenton started pointing at the screen. "The first ones go 1-4. This one is 7. Am I missing something?"

Before Joe could answer, Frank returned, his eyes deep in concentration. "Dad? Joe? Anytime someone places an ad, especially in a local paper like the _Bayport Times_ , it's automatically placed by the person wanting the ad. Those two spaces were intentionally left empty. Why? That can't be an accident for a person who likes patterns so much."

"Who is BD? Or AC?" Joe went on, frustrated. "And why are spaces left blank? What does the jump from 4 to 7 mean?"

"It COULD mean that for victim 5, there might be victims 5, 6, and 7, right?" Fenton postulated, at a loss.

"No. No-I don't think that fits the pattern," Frank said quietly. "He would have to find three random victims, all of whom are either of the same initials and age OR who represent first names of E, F, and G, followed by last names of G, H, and I. And whomever is next would have to be 52. I honestly don't know."

"We're sure it's a he?" Joe asked, throwing out anything he could think of.

"We're not sure of anything," Fenton said, "but it's unlikely it's a female. Usually females don't sign anything with "From." It could be multiple people, but that seems unlikely, too. The person or persons would have to be familiar with New York towns and topography. I mean, it could be someone not native to New York, but, given the fact that first murders are usually closest to home… and the fact that the ads are being sent to Bayport… and the fact that someone is doing his research on alphabetized victims and would have to be strong enough to restrain at least one grown man in good shape- I'd say we are looking at a male or males; native New Yorker; obsessive- compulsive type. Maybe someone interested in mysteries or someone with an extensive history with police."

"So," Joe interrupted, "we could have one or more murderers. We could be looking for male or female victim or victims in close to probably 100 towns starting with E, F, or G. And we have to catch this person or people in under 5 days if the pattern continues, which we have been unable to do thus far even with the help of the police or the FBI. Where the hell do we even start?"

Fenton rubbed his temples. "I have absolutely no idea…"


	4. Chapter 4

Note: I am so thankful for those of you reading and following. Thanks so much to those of you who took the time to leave comments. I love hearing your guesses and your feedback- they're very much appreciated. Thanks to TinDog, Jilsen, RedHardy, hlahabibty, SnowPrincess88, Caranath, Paulina Ann, ulstergirl, max2013, and merry!

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 4

Callie looked at her watch- 5:30. She was exhausted, having just finished her last day of work. In an hour and a half, Vanessa would be coming over to have dinner with her and Johnny before the big finale show at 9:00 that they would all be watching together. She hoped she could stay awake.

She opened the door to her home and chastised herself for not already having figured out what on earth she was going to make for dinner. To her surprise, as she entered the foyer, she was greeted by delicious scents emanating from the kitchen.

"Johnny?" she asked as she watched him come into the hallway with a big smile.

"Hey!" he answered. He immediately took her coat and gave her a hug. "How was your last day at work?"

She smiled back before answering. "It was exhausting. You made Steph's day by giving her the autographed picture. I told her you had mailed it to me, to protect your whereabouts, but still- she already put it up in her cubicle. I think you made her entire week."

Johnny blushed. "I still can't get used to this," he answered. Then, with a laugh, he added, "but if there are any nice guys you know who maybe want a picture- we can talk!"

Callie chuckled. "I'll let you know. What did you do? You didn't cook, did you? I was planning on preparing a nice big dinner tonight." She sat down on the couch, rubbing her aching back.

"You were not!" Johnny responded with a laugh. "You're so full of it. You had, like, frozen pizza in the freezer and random veggies and eggs in the fridge. What- is that some new way you New Yorkers eat pizza? Oh- and you had a lot of those dark chocolate and almond bars in the pantry. A LOT," he emphasized.

By now, Callie was laughing along with him. "Yeah, well- I'm pregnant. That's my craving. I think there are 10 bars there now."

"Ah- well, there may or may not be 7 left," he said innocently. "I may be pregnant, too. They're good."

Callie rubbed her eyes and smiled. "Okay. You got me. You look good for a pregnant person."

"I try," he said, and sat down next to her. "I made lasagna and meatballs. Plus, I made salad- quinoa and normal. It was fun- really- to be able to cook again, to go food shopping at ShopRite like a normal person. At least until tomorrow," he finished ruefully. "Then it's back to the city. At least I'll have my girls with me, though."

"Thanks, Johnny," she said softly. "I really appreciate you cooking. And I'm excited about tomorrow."

Johnny looked at her intensely, and she finally asked, "What?"

"Can I talk to you before Vanessa comes over? Now's as good a time as any, since I really doubt that Frank will be back before tomorrow." He reached out with his hand, which she took.

"Of course," she answered, concerned.

"First _you_ go," he said with a gentle squeeze. "I could tell something was a little off yesterday with you. I'm always here to talk to- you know that."

"I'm fine," she said, meeting his eyes. "Really."

She saw the smile creep back to his handsome face. "Callie Marie Shaw Hardy, you are full of crap today," he said. "Since when do you lie? You have never had a problem telling me or anyone what you think, so I would appreciate it if you didn't start now."

Callie felt tears spring to her eyes and she pulled her hand back. "Maybe I don't want to talk about it," she said, fighting her emotions. "Maybe it's personal. And maybe I know you have a hundred things to think about right now- and so does my mom, and Laura, and Vanessa, and Joe-and so does my husband. I can handle my own issues, thank you."

Johnny didn't back down. "Yeah- we do," he countered. "And I'm glad at least now you're talking. Because my strong, sassy friend has been missing and I'm glad to see her back. Since when do you shut everyone out- especially your husband? Because I know if you're not talking to Frank, you're sure as hell not talking to me. And before you ask how I know that, I just DO. Because I know you and I love you and I want to help. And despite your own warped sense of reality, you come second to noone."

By now, tears were streaming from Callie's eyes."Stop," she said."Don't talk to me like that."

"Yes, I _will_ talk to you like that. You know why, Cal? Because I CAN. You are the ONLY person who has ever been totally honest with me and the least I can do is return the favor. You're not some Stepford Wife who sits around and looks pretty and has no thoughts in your head. And I know- because I am surrounded by shallow people just like that every FREAKING day," he emphasized, "and I'm sick of it."

"This sounds like your issue more than mine," she refuted, still crying.

"Well, maybe it is," Johnny said calmly, though he had tears in his own eyes, and he stood up. "Callie, I have no one. May you never know what that's like. May you never know what it's like to come home and have no one to share your day with, no one who really wants to know how you are and how they can help. When my parents died in the accident in college, you- and Frank-were the only ones who got me through it. You helped me take care of everything when I had no idea what to do. Like you, I have no brothers or sisters. The difference is, I also had almost no one to rely on who didn't want something of me, even in college-until _you_ came along. I have a lot of friends- yes- but I can't trust the new ones. YOU are my family, honey. And so is Frank, now. Through you, I met people who knew me before I was famous, and let me tell you- fame is a crazy thing. You don't know who is using you or who is genuine."

Callie stood slowly and faced him, heart aching. "I know, Johnny. I'm so sorry."

"It's what I wanted to talk to you about," he said evenly, meeting her eyes. "In the last two years, I signed a contract for the show- and know how much I make? $250,000 PER EPISODE. Plus residuals. It's obscene. I have contracts with Guess and Calvin Klein. Each one- 2.5 million. I don't even get to have fun shopping anymore. Know why? Because the irony is that when you don't have money and you need it, you can't get anything. But when you do have it, everyone gives you stuff for free. "Wear this", "wear that" that say. So I have all this money and literally nothing to do with it. I got a condo on the beach in Santa Monica and that damned surfboard I've wanted since college- that's it. So I made a decision. Stay here."

Callie watched, shocked, as he headed upstairs and she wiped back tears. She was physically and emotionally drained. Johnny was right; she hadn't been talking to anyone, and it was taking its toll on her. He was just the only person who had called her on it outright. She knew that Frank knew something was off, and that he hadn't brought it up to spare her. And now Johnny was unraveling, and that felt like her fault, too, as she was so wrapped up in her own insecurities and fears that she couldn't see what he was going through. She desperately wanted Frank, but he wasn't here. This was a mess.

Johnny came down the stairs and entered the room, a large envelope in his hand. "Sit down," he ushered her, gently, and took a moment to hand her a tissue and kiss the top of her head. "First, promise me this. If you won't talk to me, you'll talk to Frank. That's all I'm asking."

"Okay," she whispered. "I don't want to fight with you, John. I love you."

"I know," he sighed. "I don't want to fight with you, either." He handed her the envelope. "Don't even bother to open it. I'm giving you a gift."

"What?" she asked. "You already left about 10 gifts for the baby upstairs."

He smiled softly as she spoke. "Before you open them, know that I had one shirt personalized that says 'My Uncle Johnny loves me'. But feel free not to have the little guy or gal wear that one in front of his or her Uncle Joe."

Callie let out a small laugh. "That's probably a good idea. I also got two t-shirts already made for the baby, just so you know, that say "I love Uncle Johnny" and "I love Uncle Joe." Probably also a good idea to wear them separately."

"Cal," he said gently to her, "that envelope you're holding? Don't open it yet. Wait for Frank. You should probably see it together. Just know that you can't argue about it, and, unless I can adopt one day, that your kids are going to be the closest that I'll ever get to having kids and I will love them as my own. Kids are the most precious gifts ever-they'll always be someone to love you and remember you long after you're gone. So- no peeking and no arguing. Okay?"

"Okay," she agreed as Johnny folded her into a tight hug.

"Come on," he said at last. "I act in a drama. I don't want or need any more drama in my real life! Let's set up for dinner before Vanessa gets here. We have a long night ahead of us. I wonder what'll happen to Detective Bryan Durant?" he teased. "I hope they let me live!"

With that lingering thought, he held Callie's hand as he lead her to the kitchen.

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"This is so damned frustrating!" Joe lamented, slamming his hand on the table.

"It is," Fenton agreed. "Even though we have every available resource at our fingertips, the scope is just too broad. It's almost as if we have to wait to see what the next move is, and whoever this is knows that we're waiting- and totally helpless to do anything about it." It was the end of another long day, and, once again, they had absolutely nothing to show for their efforts.

Frank was staring out the window, which Joe just noticed. "Earth to Frank! Any ideas over there, bro? I can practically see the smoke coming from the wheels turning in your head."

Frank looked up and shrugged. "I have nothing," he said at last. "I just don't know who "BD" and "AC" are, and I've been thinking about that. I think that maybe, instead of us all hanging out here and waiting, one of us should go back to Bayport and speak with Collig or revisit the specifics behind the _Bayport_ _Times_ classified system. Obviously, Bayport has something to do with this. I just don't know what- no murder was committed there. But it is…" he hesitated, thinking.

"It's woody," Joe finished. "Is that where you were going?"

"Yeah," Frank affirmed. "Although there are thousands of other places that are also woody. But the "BD" maybe means "Bayport" something? I don't know. It's a stretch."

"Maybe," Fenton said thoughtfully. "It's as good a guess as anything. Why don't you go?" Fenton continued, looking at Frank. "It's your idea, and I know you probably want to check on Callie. If nothing else happens, leave tomorrow. Joe and I will stay here until we get a lead. There's no sense at all in the three of us even attempting to narrow down 100- 200 towns and names. The FBI unit is on it already. I hate this waiting; it's the worst part of the job."

"Let's get dinner," Joe finally suggested. "Then we can watch the season finale of Criminal Hunters- it's on at 9:00. It's always kind of cool to see Johnny on tv."

"Sounds like a plan," Frank agreed.

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"What?!" Vanessa cried out at 11:00 p.m. "Oh my God! They can't leave it there!" she yelled at the screen.

Callie clutched at her necklace, eyes wide. "Wow," she said at last, finally releasing her breath.

Johnny was equally stunned. "On a bright note… I'm still alive. At least temporarily!"

"Johnny!" Vanessa lamented. "I can't believe this. The season can't end like that! You're captured, along with your best friend and the detective's wife? And she's pregnant?! I can't even handle that!"

"I'm more concerned that I'm in the hands of a serial killer who wants to get revenge on me just because I'm good at my job. Damned police," Johnny added with a smile. "Why can't they ever keep the bad guys in jail?"

Vanessa started to bite her nails, and Callie swatted her hand away. "Stop. It's a show! And look- Johnny's okay- he's right here."

"I hate that freaking guy. Anthony Charles?! He's evil," Vanessa said with a shudder.

Johnny started laughing. "Actually," he said,"his name is Justin Cormeir, and he's one of the nicest people you'll ever meet."

Vanessa wouldn't be swayed. "Well, who has the time to kill people in alphabetical order?! And why did it take your best friend so long to figure it out? And why are you trapped with the women now? I can't wait for next season!" Vanessa lamented.

"Me, either," Johnny says."I could see this going many different ways, and one of which is that I die, so I'm written out of my contract. Hmmm. Well, that probably won't happen- I just signed on for another two years. I'm kind of excited to go in tomorrow now and see what I'm doing!"

"I don't want you to die!" Vanessa pouted.

Johnny laughed and got up to stretch. He reached into his pocket for his phone, which was now buzzing. His face lit up. "That's my agent," he told them after a few minutes, having returned to the room he had left when he picked up. "Social media is going nuts. It looks like great buzz- the show just hit #1 in the ratings tonight!"

"I'm so happy for you!" Callie said, and stood on tiptoe next to him, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Well, I'm not!" Vanessa went on. "I'm emotionally invested in this. What could happen?"

Johnny squeezed Vanessa's shoulder. "Let's see," he said. "We could all die, but that seems unlikely. We might all escape- that's a distinct possibility. Maybe one or two of the girls will die, which I hope doesn't happen- they're nice people in real life. Maybe I'll rescue everyone or I'll get rescued by my buddy. Those are pretty much your choices."

"But you're trapped in that awful motel- The Woods. Even the name creeps me out," Vanessa sighed unhappily.

"Blame the writers," Johnny said with a wink. He looked at Callie. "You looked exhausted, sweetheart. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. I'm glad you have a five bedroom house now. Van and I will go to bed soon and we'll wake you up early for the city. Night!" He gave her a playful push towards the stairs.

Callie smiled and yawned. "Night, guys," she said, pausing for a quick moment to give them both hugs. "See you tomorrow!"

As soon as she left the room, Vanessa grabbed Johnny's arm. "Can we go through the show again and you tell me the clues I missed?!" she begged.

Johnny rolled his eyes but chuckled anyway. He plopped on the couch. "Go ahead, Van," he said, watching as she happily chatted away, relieved and excited that the show was so engaging.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Joe felt the color drain from his face as he finished viewing the end of the show. What the hell had he just watched?

Despite their assurances that they'd be up to watch the show, both Frank and his father had turned in early.

"Alphabetical killings? The Woods? Escaped killers and revenge?" he mutterered. "It couldn't be…" he thought.

But the feeling in his gut told him otherwise. Something was going on here. Tomorrow night, he would get back to Bayport and talk to Johnny. There was no way the girls knew about the case he was working on now. The idea of alphabetical murders wasn't totally unique, he knew. It could all be a weird coincidence.

Then again, he didn't believe in coincidences. He never had.


	5. Chapter 5

**Note** : _I am so appreciative for the many people who have taken the time to leave reviews- they make such a difference! I have enjoyed seeing your guesses about what will happen. To that end, many thanks to EastBlue, TinDog, hlahabibty, Caranath, Red Hardy, SnowPrincess88, ulstergirl, Hero76, max2013, and Paulina Ann. Th next chapter will be up Thursday!_

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 5

"I don't know," Frank said to his brother the next morning. "That's a stretch." He was referring to Joe's theory that the finale of Criminal Hunters had anything to do with the current case they were working on.

"Come on, Frank. Obviously, I know it's a stretch. But it's weird. The hotel that they get kidnapped to is "The Woods."

"And there is no hotel in these cases," Frank pointed out.

"The people are killed in alphabetical order- and there are five of them," Joe countered.

"Yes," Frank agreed. "But we have four deaths so far and one more that hasn't happened yet and hopefully won't. Plus, our case might skip to "E" or "F" or "G". What else?"

Joe sighed and spoke, frustrated. "There's a serial killer who is trying to get revenge on Johnny's character. And he's a detective."

Frank met his eyes. "Exactly. And what detective do we have? None. There is no indication whatsoever that this case has anything to do with us, personally."

"The ads are in Bayport!" Joe emphasized, trying to hold his composure.

"And WE are not," Frank answered. "I haven't been contacted personally about anything. You haven't. As far as I know, dad hasn't. Collig asked dad to take on the case. No one's been threatened. Joe, you have to calm down. Your nerves are on edge. The chance that a case we're working on has anything to do with a television show is kind of out there. Maybe it's just cause we're friends with Johnny?" He placed a hand on Joe's shoulder. "I appreciate that you're thinking outside the box, but I think that you need to refocus your energies on facts right now."

Joe didn't let it go. "Frank. Johnny's a detective. On the show, he's best friends with a blonde girl. Then, another blonde woman, who happens to be pregnant AND the wife of a detective, is kidnapped along with him."

Frank dropped his arm from Joe's shoulder and fought back his wave of frustration as it dawned on him what Joe was implying. "Really, Joe?" he asked, angrily. "I can't even believe that you'd imply that I have any more to worry about than I should. What the hell does Callie have to do with anything?! You're crazy now." He walked towards the door, then turned back to his brother. "Joe, it's a SHOW. The finale ended- it's done. Johnny is an ACTOR who plays a detective on tv, one who happens to be on location in New York now, but who otherwise has nothing to do with Bayport. He lives in Los Angeles. Callie is blonde and pregnant and the wife of a detective- so what? You're mixing up real life-Johnny the actor versus the Johnny the person. Please- just STOP."

"His name on the show is Bryan Durant- BD," Joe muttered.

Frank threw up his hands in frustration. "I'm over this ridiculous theory!" he replied, voice rising. "And-"

"Boys!" Fenton's voice boomed as he came into the room. "I can hear you down the hall! It's 8:00 in the morning. Why are you arguing? Can you please knock it off?"

"Joe's being nonsensical," Frank answered, uncharacteristically moody. "And I don't have time for it. I'm heading out now to Bayport- it'll take a good six hours to get there. I'll call you when I arrive. In the meantime," he went on, glaring at Joe," I'd suggest that you tell your son that sometimes facts actually matter in a case, and maybe we'd all be better served if he actually concentrated on them!" He turned around, grabbed his bag, and slammed the door.

Fenton raised his eyebrows quizzically at Joe. "Should I even ask how you managed to rile up your even-tempered older brother at this hour of the morning?"

Joe rubbed his temples and bit back an angry retort. Instead, he managed to calmly tell his father his whole theory, methodically and slowly. When he was done, he looked up and was relieved to see that his father wasn't laughing at him. "So what do you think?" he asked, more apprehensive than he thought he would be. "Do you think there's a connection?"

"No," Fenton replied straightforwardly. "I don't, especially since the finale was probably filmed months ago. But look. I've been around long enough to know that nothing should be ruled out until you can rule it out for sure. Frank's heading to Bayport now. I'll call him when he's calmer and have him touch base with Johnny- or, better yet, you call Johnny. Ask him what you want to about the production of the show, if for no other purpose than it'll set your mind at ease. Is that fair?"

Joe let out his breath slowly. "I guess. Yes."

Fenton smiled kindly at his younger son and gave him a gentle pat on the back. "And go easy on your brother. He's stressed out about the baby; he's worried about Callie. He has a ton of nervous energy and he hasn't slept well. I think you hit some sort of nerve with him that Callie could be in trouble and that he wouldn't be there to protect her. Even if he doesn't believe a word of your theory, and it IS far fetched, that's always been Frank's greatest fear, and you just inadvertently tapped into it."

"Okay," he replied with a small nod. "I guess you're right. I'm normally the edgy one. I'll apologize later."

"You're a good kid, you know that?" Fenton said affectionately.

"Dad, I'm 25," he replied with a small blush.

"You'll always be MY kid," he said with a small laugh. "And if it makes you feel better, I think you're an excellent young man-and detective- as well."

"Thanks," Joe replied. "I know I've always been your favorite," he teased.

Fenton smiled in spite of himself. "Don't tell your brother," Fenton teased back.

Joe gave a thumbs up sign as he chuckled.

"Uh oh," Fenton said as he heard his phone start to go off and recognized the number. "Hang on." He reached for a pen and paper as he picked up the line.

Joe watched as his father's face became very serious and he took notes, murmuring brief questions again to whomever was on the other end of the line. After a few moments, he hung up.

"What's up?" Joe asked, concerned.

Fenton put the paper down. "I can't believe it. This time, it was only two days. A body was just found- Gertrude Idhig of Glens Falls. Same method."

"But a woman again?" Joe asked, clenching his fist in frustration. "Now we're back to women? And I'm sure she's 52, right?"

"No," Fenton said solemnly, meeting Joe's eyes. "She's 72."

Joe raised his hands in confusion. "What?!"

"I know. It doesn't fit the pattern."

"Was there another ad in the _Times_?" Joe queried.

"I don't know. Let's look online- it's probably faster than calling Mr. Webling." Joe went to the desk on which he had his laptop and went to power it up, at exactly the same time that Fenton's phone started ringing again. Fenton waved him on to continue as he picked up the phone.

Bringing up the link to the Times, Joe immediately hit the "Classifieds" link. As he stared at the screen, his mouth fell open. "Dad!" he almost shouted. "Look at this!"

Fenton came over to Joe, his face a mask of confusion. "Collig just called. Let me see it," he said.

Joe pointed at the screen. This time, there was no eighth ad. Instead, filled in spot #5, where it had been blank just two days before, was a small poem. " **seeker of truth/ follow no path/ all paths lead where/ truth is here".**

"Dad?" Joe asked. "I have no idea what's going on, but I don't like it. I think we need to go back to Bayport- now."

Fenton sighed heavily before speaking. "Call Frank. Tell him about this. I don't get it, either, but I have a bad feeling about it. We'll all meet at my house tonight- 7:00? Let's go."

Following his father, Joe couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong with this whole case. And it was killing him that he couldn't see what was probably right in front of him.


	6. Chapter 6

Note: Thank you to all those reading and following. I am especially appreciative of those of you kind enough to leave a review, which makes it all worth it. Hope you all enjoy a day early! Thanks to Hero76, Red Hardy, ulstergirl, max2013, TinDog, East Blue, Paulina Ann, hlahabibty, and Caranath for reviews on the last chapter!

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 6

"Oh, this is incredible!" Vanessa gushed to Callie as they sat in Johnny's trailer on the set of Criminal Hunters. "I can't believe it!" She looked around in awe and sighed happily.

Callie smiled at her friend's enthusiasm. "I know. He has certainly come a long way since we used to eat Ramen noodles and rent movies to save money in college!" she responded, nostalgic.

"Cal!" Vanessa said, squeezing her hand. "Johnny is so great. I mean, look- I'm the first to admit that he's, like, the most beautiful man on earth, and I have had the biggest crush on him ever since we met. But other than that- he's so nice! And he's smart and funny and GORGEOUS and generous and-"

"And it sounds to me as if you could have stopped when you mentioned that you had a crush on him," Callie said with a laugh. "Yes, he's a doll."

Vanessa gave a silly grin. "Why are the good looking, amazing ones either always taken or gay?" she sighed dramatically.

Callie laughed again. "Van!" she reminded her. "You're MARRIED- and to a really great, smart, handsome, and funny guy yourself. I think you need to reign it in."

"I know," Vanessa said with a blush ."And you know I love Joe to pieces, but can't Johnny remain my not- so- secret crush? And besides- didn't you ever like him? LIKE-like him? Come on- 'fess up!"

Callie rolled her eyes. "You sound like a lovestruck teenager, Van! And the answer to your question- for real- is that I do like him- I love him, actually. But he's not...you know, Frank. Frank's been my dream guy forever- my best friend and true love. You know that." She blushed, realizing that she'd revealed more than she wanted to.

Vanessa looked at her affectionately for a moment before calling out, "BOOOORING!" and Callie just shook her head in amusement.

"I'm actually really excited to see Frank today," Callie said eagerly. "I've really missed him. In fact, I THINK he's going to try to stop by the set- Johnny got him clearance- in a little while. I think he said that Joe and Fenton were also coming back to Bayport, too- just a little later tonight. I guess their case isn't over yet."

"Yeah- Joe mentioned something about that on a text he sent me a while ago," Vanessa agreed. "I wish he could have come to the set, too. I feel like I'm meeting stars!"

"You ARE meeting stars," Callie said dryly.

Before their conversation could continue, Johnny came into the trailer, covered in mud and completely disheveled. He shut the door behind him.

"Johnny! Are you okay?" Vanessa asked concerned, and Johnny laughed.

"I'm great, Van! Don't forget- I'm currently kidnapped and trying to figure out a way to save myself and my girls!" He stretched. "I have no idea how this ends, though. They only give us a few pages at a time for security reasons. Still, it's pretty great writing and it's exciting to film. I'm sorry if this is boring for you both. I'll introduce you to everyone later."

"Even Angel Gonzales?" Vanessa asked, starstruck.

Johnny reached for a quick sip of soda. "Even Angel- anyone you want, honey." He looked quickly at his watch and spoke into it. "Cleared. Back lot 6. Send him back." He smiled at Callie and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Your husband is here. Tell him I'll talk to him later- I'm due back to film in 30 minutes." He paused as an idea struck him. "You know what? Come on, Van. Let's leave Frank and Callie alone for a few minutes. Let me show you around." He reached for her hand.

Vanessa's whole face lit up. "Really?" she asked, as she took his hand.

"Absolutely! Come on!" With a quick wave at Callie, they were gone.

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Less than five minutes later, Callie rose as she heard a knock on the door. Releasing the latch, she was incredibly happy to see Frank standing before her. He smiled the moment he saw her, and, as soon as he entered through the door, took her in his arms and held her to him. "I missed you," he whispered huskily into her ear.

Callie buried her face in Frank's chest and hugged him tightly. "I missed you, too, baby."

Slowly, Callie pulled away and took Frank's hand, leading him to the couch. Sitting down next to her, he wrapped his arms around her again, pulled her close, and kissed her forehead. "I know it's been under a week, but it feels like forever," he said gently. "How's your day here? Johnny knows how to live it up- this is a nice gig," he finished.

Callie smiled and snuggled into his arms. "It's great. Kind of exciting and also boring at the same time," she answered. "He warned us it would be like that."

"How are you holding up?" he asked, looking into her eyes.

"Honestly?" she asked. "I'm exhausted. My back is killing me. My ankles are swelling up. Pregnancy is really sexy," she teased.

Frank lightly brushed her lips with his. "You're always sexy," he said easily, tightening his hold on her. "But-on a more serious note, you need to take it easy. Don't overdo it today. I need you home, safe and sound, and back in my arms, as soon as possible. Of course," he interrupted himself, "it would be nice to actually see you! Instead, there's been a twist in our case and we have to meet up- me and Joe-at dad's tonight." He sighed and looked at her softly. "I'll be honest with you. For the first time I can remember, I'm having a hard time getting involved in a case. My mind's here with you- and the baby," he went on, gently resting a hand on her stomach. "I don't think I'm being terribly useful to anyone right now."

Callie pulled back slightly. "Are you okay, honey? Is anything wrong?"

Frank ran a hand through his dark hair and scowled slightly. "Well, I tore into Joe this morning for a stupid theory he has about the case. He won't let it go, and it's, in my opinion, distracting from getting real answers. Still," he went on dejectedly, "I shouldn't have yelled at him. That was wrong. He just-he kind of hit a nerve with me."

"Go on," she encouraged.

Frank rubbed her back as he sat silently, collecting his thoughts. When he did speak, his voice had an unusual edge to it. "I… are you okay, Cal?" he asked, hesitantly. "Are… are we okay?"

Callie met his eyes, stunned at the emotion in them. "I'm-" she began.

"I know. You're _fine_ ," he said in frustration. "Cal," he began again, "I've wracked my brain to try to figure out why you're upset. I'm sorry if I've been insensitive, or if I've hurt you in any way. It's the last thing I would ever want to do. Maybe not now, but promise me you'll talk to me. Please," he begged her. "You're my wife. You're my best friend. I can't concentrate on anything else until I know that we're okay." His voice caught in his throat.

Callie felt tears spring to her eyes and, in that moment, she knew that she was as much to blame for not talking as Frank was for not asking; probably more so. "We're okay," she whispered, and hugged him tightly. "I promise we'll talk soon. I love you, baby. And I'm sorry."

"Me, too," he replied. He tilted her face towards his and kissed her tenderly. "And I love you, too. Always."

The phone started buzzing and Frank groaned. "This damned thing never stops," he grumbled. Reading the text, he shook his head. "That's Joe," he said to her. "He needs me to look at something right away, and then I have to head to the Bayport PD, and then I need to talk to Liz's father-and I have to do all of this in the next five hours, at which time I'll have to meet up at my parents' house."

"Maybe you're the one who needs not to overdo it," she mentioned with a small smile. "How did you even make time to come here?"

"It was on the way," Frank replied honestly. "And I needed to see you." He touched her cheek gently. "But I DO have to go now. Warn Johnny please that, knowing Joe, he will be calling him about his dopey theory."

"Why would Joe call Johnny about your case?" Callie asked, confused.

Frank went to say something, then thought better of it. "I'll let Joe explain it to him if it even gets that far- which it probably won't."

He stood and helped Callie to her feet. "I'll see you tonight, okay?" he said to her happily, and she nodded and smiled. "Your daddy loves you," he said to Callie's stomach, and bent down to give it a quick kiss. "And your husband loves you," he said to her, and pulled her close for a final long, tender kiss that, even after all of these years, left her yearning for more. "Bye, babe," he said in a low, emotional voice her before heading out. "I'll see you soon."

At that moment, Callie found herself blushing, relieved and grateful for Frank. Maybe it was time to start letting her guard down. Things were looking up. What were the chances that anything could go wrong now?

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Several hours later, Johnny's day on the set was just wrapping up. "Girls!" he called to them. "Don't forget the finale just aired. We have several months before the new season starts, and we got great scenes done today." He sat down on the detective set and ushered them to sit down at his desk. Vanessa remained as awestruck now at being on the real set as she had been at the start of the day.

"Are you sure we're allowed here?" Vanessa asked, watching the actors and set crew milling around.

"Absolutely!" Johnny said. "Bill, the head writer, saw you two and I told him who you were. He told me you might enjoy just hanging out on the set while everyone wrapped up. This is exactly where the action from the finale picked up. Remember? There was a series of tiny explosions and then I was kidnapped with my bestie and the detective's wife. I thought you'd like to be in on the action, Van!" he said with a smile.

"I love it!" Vanessa cooed.

"How are you feeling, Cal?" Johnny asked, noticing she was somewhat quieter than normal. "You must be exhausted."

Callie went to reply when all of a sudden she heard screaming in the background. Before she knew what was going on, she heard explosions, saw fire in the distance. The air filled with smoke, and she started coughing violently.

"What the hell?" she heard Johnny shout, and Vanessa ducked for cover, hands over her ears.

Then, everything descended into chaos. Out of the corner of her eye, Callie saw someone grab for Vanessa; thought she saw Johnny struggling with an attacker. And then, before she could process anything more, she felt a rag go over her mouth and instantly recognized the sickly sweet smell of chloroform. As she struggled to maintain consciousness, she felt someone lift her up and slam her against vehicle. Then, with only the fleeting instinct to throw her hands over her stomach, she gave into the darkness against which she could struggle no longer.

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At 7:30 that night, at his parents' house, Joe had just finished telling his brother about the mysterious poem that had appeared in the classifieds section. Wanting to show the actual ad to Frank and his father, again, he flipped on his laptop and was assaulted by news headlines popping from his screen.

 **Life Imitates Art: Criminal Hunters Star and Friends Kidnapped in Exact Same Manner as Season Finale**

Joe felt his heart stop beating as he stared at the screen, saw Frank's face completely drain of color.

"What the hell is happening?!" he cried, panicked. "Dad? Frank?!"

But there was no answer. Only a shocked, incredulous, and fear-filled silence that answered more forcefully than their voices ever could.


	7. Chapter 7

**Note:** _As always, thank you for reading and the reviews- they are very much appreciated! I love getting your feedback. Thanks SnowPrincess88, EastBlue, Red Hardy, Paulina Ann,ulstergirl, max2013, Caranath, and Hero76 for your reviews on the last chapter._

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 7

Joe frantically dialed Vanessa's cell phone, hoping against hope that she would pick up. Nothing.

"Damnit!" he cried, throwing his phone on the table. "What the hell happened?"

White-faced, Fenton excused himself from the room. Running into his den, he dialed the phone immediately. "Ezra!" he called to his old friend and Bayport Police Chief. "Did you see the story?!"

Collig's voice was grim. "When Joe called me earlier today, I thought he was full of crap," he said steadily. "And then I heard what happened in the city a few hours ago. Fenton, I don't understand any of this. Can you come into the station? I'll call my best people, reach out to our old contacts in the NYPD. You call the FBI team leaders. We need to find out specifically what happened." His voice softened a bit. "How are the boys? I can't even imagine how traumatized they are. Are you okay?"

Fenton tried to control his voice, but it came out much more unsteady than he would have liked. "We've been combing through every news outlet that we can find, thinking of who to call. Vanessa, Callie, John Gellers- they're all not answering. I tried to call in a few favors to get their phones traced, but it's unlikely that with a case this complicated, anyone involved would be careless enough to let them keep traceable phones." His voice wobbled. "They're shocked; absolutely terrified. So am I."

"I'm sorry, Fenton," Ezra said, kindly. "Don't lose hope. We don't even know for sure that what happened to the girls today has anything to do with our case."

"It sure as hell seems so now," Fenton managed.

"It does," Collig agreed. "But we need to discuss what we know. Make your calls. Meet me at the station in an hour."

"We'll be there," he managed, and hung up. As he went to turn, he caught sight of Laura, who was looking at him with fear. "Anything?" she asked.

He walked to her and hugged her to him, willing himself to stay in control. "We'll get to the bottom of this," he tried to assure her as he felt her trembling. "They'll be okay."

"They have to be," Laura managed, then stepped back from her husband. "Go," she added. "Do what you need to do." She met his eyes and turned slowly away, years of experience telling her that for her husband to function, he had to work; to think. This was one case he could not afford to get wrong.

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At the police station, Fenton, Frank, and Joe were ushered into a private conference room, where there were several other officers and FBI agents ready to talk. On the table in front of them lay several copies of the ads.

Collig spoke first. "Let me tell you what we know right out of the set today," he began, seriously, as several officers went to take notes. "At approximately 5:00 p.m. today, shooting was wrapping up for the first episode of next year's season of Criminal Hunters. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. One of the show's major stars, Jonathan Gellers, was sitting at one of the sets along with Callie and Vanessa Hardy as crew members and several other actors were clearing the set. What we have ascertained happened was that the set was rigged with several small explosions that were set off by a timer. Somehow, a large truck broke through the barrier of the set- the guard in charge of security was shot, but thankfully lived, though he couldn't radio for help. At that time, people were panicked and running as an additional series of smoke bombs went off, effectively blocking out the view of any security cameras. It appears as if, during the chaos, Gellers and the Hardy women were grabbed and taken in the truck, which subsequently escaped through the city streets. We are trying to locate the truck via tracking on street cameras and other means, but thus far have no leads."

"How?" Joe interjected, angry. "I don't understand how this could have happened!" He took a deep breath, trying, and failing, to remain calm. "It doesn't make any sense! I just watched the finale of that show the other day. Johnny is a good friend-he's staying at Frank and Callie's house, for God's sake!"

"The damned media was there covering filming and they got bits and pieces of the story before we even knew what was happening," Collig answered grimly. "So Twitter and Facebook and all social media is abuzz with half truths before we even get notification. That's news today- get it first; not get it right. It must have been horrifying to find out the way you did, Joe. I'm sorry."

Joe looked quickly at his brother, and was almost silenced by the look of utter despair on his face. He quickly realized that Frank hadn't uttered a single word to him since they had found out the news, and just as quickly realized that Frank would only be able to talk once all the facts were out. If Frank didn't have that to concentrate on- some lead of some sort- Joe didn't know what he would do; and that scared him.

Joe took a deep breath, realizing that he was the one who needed to be calm. It was disconcerting seeing the look on Frank's face, but he had to try to make sense of this. "The season finale had Johnny's character- and his best friend, and his friend's wife, who was pregnant-taken in the exact same way," he said evenly.

"Joe, tell everyone here what other thoughts you had about the show," Collig encouraged.

Joe fought his roiling emotions as he spoke. "Johnny plays a detective- the detective's initials are BD, the same as in the ads. In the series finale, he is kidnapped as retribution from a serial killer who had escaped from prison. That character had killed people alphabetically, and Johnny's character had figured out the crimes and put him away. In the show, they're taken to a place in the middle of nowhere to some creepy abandoned house called "The Woods". Come to think of it," Joe added as he spoke, mad at himself for having missed it the first time, "the killer's name was Anthony Charles- AC." He rubbed his temples as the connection to the show became glaringly obvious.

"Hmmm," Fenton speculated. "Yes. That's pretty compelling."

"What about the real murders?" Frank asked in a voice so soft that Joe barely recognized it. Even Fenton looked at his eldest son and rested his hand on his back in comfort.

"Yes- let's focus on that now," Collig said. "So we know that we have the ads that all read the same. Let's outline what we have:

The ads read: ' _To BD. Here is your clue. It's all about what you do. The secret spaces will speak to you. From, AC."_

The ads are numbered.

The first three victims were women, ages 12, 22, and 32, respectively. "Alice Conway- from Albany. Beatrice Donover- Brighton. Cathy Eisner- Cotning- were taken prisoner, at which time they were found to be beaten, malnourished, and dehydrated. They were then set loose in the woods for some reason, and escape was probably near to impossible because they had all been shot in either the arm or the leg. They bled out. The ads appeared exactly one week before the bodies were found.

The next victim was David Fallon, 42, of Dryden. He was the first male killed, and the pattern escalated. It was 5 days, not 7, after the ad was placed that was he was killed.

At that point, Joe noticed that the first four deaths were labeled 1-4, but the next ad, which was put up the day Fallon's body was discovered, was labeled #7, and two spots had purposefully been jumped over.

I think it was at that point that Frank hypothesized that perhaps the "B" in the ads may have to do with Bayport, but he never got to focus on that angle or work on how the ads were placed.

The next death was another woman, Gertrude Idhig of Glens Falls, who was 72 years old. Her body was discovered only two days after the ad was placed.

Finally, instead of the ad appearing again, there was a poem. "Seeker of truth/ follow no path/ all paths lead where/ truth is here".

There has been no additional murder in two days. Then, the kidnappings occurred this evening."

"Actually," the lead FBI investigator, Randy Gold, cut in. "Today, in the final #6 spot, approximately two hours before the incident in New York, another poem appeared."

"What?!" Fenton cried. "Why weren't we notified of this?"

"Because, Sir, we have been busy trying to locate the kidnapping victims, which has taken the obvious top priority."

Fenton shut his mouth with a snap. Well, he couldn't argue that.

"What did it say?" Frank asked, monotone. Joe again looked at him, concerned.

"It was a longer poem; a section of one, actually. It read as follows: "Noises that usually woke me from rest afraid of monsters/ kept my father awake that night, too,/ and I lay in the quiet noticing him listen, learning/ that he might not be able always to protect us."

Fenton shook his head. Something was wrong. Something was very off here.

"Dad," Frank said quietly. "Didn't you deal with a case a long time ago-when Joe and I were kids- where there was also some sort of weird alphabetical killing, or am I making that up?"

At first he was confused, but then Fenton, startled, looked at Collig. "You're right," he said, and Collig slowly nodded. "But that was years ago. The man killed three people- he was obsessed with murder mysteries. We got him- but he died in jail. Why?"

Joe stared at his brother. "Frank?" he asked, noting how pale he looked.

Frank raised a shaking hand to his forehead. When he spoke, his voice was so riveting that everyone turned to him. Frank had always had that power- his demeanor was so unassuming and he was so laid back that when he did speak, people paid attention.

"Are you sure he died, Dad?" Frank asked.

Collig nodded. "He was taken into custody; found guilty; locked away. Come to think of it, the jail-it was located in upstate New York- was closing down and the prisoners were getting ready to be transferred. There was a huge fire, and several prisoners died. Cotnig was presumed dead. Why?"

Frank got even more pale, if that was possible. "What was his name?" he asked.

"Alan Cotnig," Collig answered.

"Don't you see?" Frank asked in a tight voice. "I don't get the connection to the show yet at all- I have to think about that- but look at what we have. "AC"- Alan Cotnig. Let me guess- he was obsessed with murder mysteries- say, _The ABC Murders?_ Isn't that by Agatha Christie?- AC again?"

Everyone stared at him as he went on. "A fire, huh? So I presume the body wasn't found. There's a lot more here that I need to think about, but start there." He turned and walked out of the room as Fenton and Ezra's eyes met.

"Could- could it be?" Fenton asked.

"I sure as hell am going to look into it," Collig answered, and motioned for Fenton to follow him, along with two agents.

Joe followed his brother outside into the frigid night and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. They stayed that way, wrapped in their own thoughts and fears, for a long time, staring at the emptiness and vast darkness before them.

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Vanessa opened her eyes, fighting the pounding headache that was making her nauseated. She was in some sort of darkened, barren room. The only window she could see was located high above her head, well out of reach, and it let the moonlight through. It also, she realized at once, let in the cold air- and it was cold, indeed. She wrapped her arms around herself and tried to stop her teeth from chattering. Where the hell was she? What had happened?

As she acclimated herself to her surroundings, she head a faint moan and looked in the direction of the sound. At once, she recognized it. "Oh, God! Callie! Cal!" she called out as she fumbled her way through the darkness. It didn't take her long to find Callie crumpled in the corner. "Cal?" she squeaked out, tears falling from her eyes. "Are you okay?" She knelt down next to her and touched her arm.

Callie weakly sat up and hugged Vanessa. "I'm okay," she mumbled. "But it's so cold. What- what are we doing? Where are we?"

"I don't know," Vanessa whispered. She clung tightly to Callie.

Within five minutes, Johnny had found his way to them. "Van? Cal?" he asked as he came up behind them, giving each a quick squeeze. "What's happening?" He breathed deeply, trying to get his bearings.

Within a minute, the lights flicked on, temporarily blinding the three. When their eyes adjusted, Vanessa gasped. In front of them stood an older man, with skin scarred so badly that he looked like a monster. He held a gun out in front of them. Shaking, Vanessa stifled a scream.

"Detective Durant," he said, in a low, raspy voice. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Johnny shook his head in disbelief. "Wh- what?" he managed. "I'm- that's my tv name. That's not me!"

The man's eyes never moved. "And Mrs. Whitmore. And Ms. Copeland. It's lovely to have you as my guests."

Vanessa swallowed hard, recognizing the names from the show.

"I've invited you here tonight-" he began, but Johnny interrupted.

"Invited us?! You… you _took_ us! Who are you and what do you want?"

The man's horrid face contorted angrily. "You will shut up, Mr. Durant, or you will die."

Callie grabbed Johnny's hand, fearfully.

"Mr. Durant, I know you don't understand the game yet, but you will soon. Just do as I say. Isn't it lovely to see how the next season will start? Will you live or die? Will your friends live or die? What will happen to that innocent child she carries?" he indicated Callie, and she recoiled, shaking. "All will be revealed soon. In the meantime, try to stay warm this evening. I- or someone close to me- will be back soon." With those words, he turned his back on them and walked away.

"What are we gonna do?" Vanessa cried, not even bothering to wipe away her tears. "He's crazy!"

"It's okay," Johnny answered, squeezing her shoulder. "I'll think of something. Try not to be afraid."

He turned to Callie, saw how badly she was shivering. Immediately, he remembered that it was exactly what had happened to the detective's wife in the show- she was the only one without a coat. "Oh, Cal," he sighed, and took off his own coat to give to her.

"It's okay," she managed. "You're c..c...cold."

Johnny rolled his eyes and wrapped the coat around her anyway, ignoring her. He took her in his arms, holding her close, trying to keep her warm. "Hang in there, sweetheart," he said softly, and kissed her head.

She nodded, shaking. Vanessa huddled close as well.

"Try to be strong," he said to both women. "We need to stick together and I need to think. This has something to do with my show. No matter what happens, we need to be in this together. Okay? I'll do whatever I can to protect you. I don't need Frank and Joe pissed at me on top of everything," he tried to joke.

Vanessa bit back a sob and nodded. Johnny held more tightly to Callie.

The night dragged on.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Note** : I have loved reading your feedback and seeing your guesses about the mystery. Thank you for the thoughtful reviews TinDog (Amazing!) Red Hardy (Uh oh- what did I hint at? LOL), hlahabibty, Hero 76, hbndgirl, Paulina Ann, EastBlue, Caranath, ulstergirl, max2013, and SnowPrincess88 (on chapter 5). I'm happy you're enjoying the story. :)_

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 8

The next morning at 9:00, Joe sat forlornly at the kitchen table at his parents' house. He and Frank had decided to stay the night at their old house, ostensibly so they could share information as it came in and get an early start the next day. He knew, though, that it was only part of the reason. He couldn't imagine going back to the home he shared with Vanessa without her being there, and he knew Frank was probably feeling the same way. And that was why it was so surprising that, when he went to wake Frank up, he wasn't in his bedroom. And now Joe sat, crumpling and uncrumpling napkins mindlessly, temporarily at a loss of what to do.

He felt a gentle squeeze on his shoulder as Laura sat next to him. "Hey, mom," he said dejectedly, not looking up.

"Hi, honey," she responded, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "'I'd ask how you're holding up, but I think I know the answer."

Joe managed the smallest of smiles.

"Did you get any sleep last night?" she queried, placing her hand on top of his.

Joe stopped fidgeting with the napkins and sighed. "A few hours," he answered. "I had to take stupid NyQuil, if you can believe that. It's the only thing that knocks me unconscious." He turned to his mother. "And I knew I needed some rest to be able to think clearly today."

Laura rubbed his hand. "That was smart, sweetheart. I think you're going to have a long day ahead of you." Seeing the shadow pass over his face, she continued. "I know you're scared. We all are. But we have to have faith. You and your brother- and dad- have always managed to come through in the most dire of circumstances. And I know the stakes don't get higher than this." She cleared her throat, struggling with her own emotions.

"Why, mom?" he asked, softly. "Facts aside, how can my wife- and Frank's wife- and one of our best friends, get involved in our cases? They… they never asked for any of this. It's not fair. This is my greatest fear, and now it's real. I… I can't lose her… or…" His voice cut out, his eyes unexpectedly starting to spill tears he'd held back for a day.

Laura pulled him into a tight hug. "It's NOT fair," she agreed. "Oh, honey. It's awful. But they're both strong girls; and Johnny is there to look out for them. Please try to believe they'll be okay."

Joe nodded, wiping his eyes. "God, mom. Callie. She's pregnant- _very_ _pregnant_. Frank must be absolutely terrified. I… I mean, Vanessa has a fighting chance. But…" He took a deep breath.

"Stop!" Laura said, and pulled back from him, touching his face. "You need to stop. You can't think like this. It's going to cloud your judgement at a time when you sorely need to focus. Let love for your friend- your sister- your wife- drive you… not this fear, sweetheart."

"You're right," Joe mouthed, still unable to get his bearings as he wiped his eyes again.

Laura grabbed both of his hands. "I don't think your brother slept at all. He's not here- his car is gone. He probably went home early this morning. Go to him. Help him get his head straight-fast. You both so deserve this time to grieve and fear, but you need the time more than ever to act, and you don't have that luxury. Do you need to take copies of the files and review fact sheets?" she asked, getting him to focus.

Joe weakly grinned. "Nah. I know it all by heart. Thanks, mama," he said, using an old term of endearment from his childhood. He leaned over to hug her tightly. "I love you." He got up to leave.

"You're welcome, Joey," she answered. "I love you, too. Go find our girls."

"I will," Joe answered as he got up to go. And, for the first time, he allowed himself time to breathe deeply.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Arriving at Frank's house close to 20 minutes later, he saw that his mom had been right: Frank's car was parked in his driveway. Joe sighed. He knew exactly where his brother would be. Determined not to lose his momentum, Joe let himself in Frank's house, bounded up the stairs, and found his way to the nursery, where Frank was standing, looking at the crib, eyes deadened.

"Don't do this," Joe said, standing in front of his brother and cutting to the chase. Frank barely looked startled, and it concerned him.

He put his hands on Frank's shoulders. "Frank. I know what you're feeling, okay? I KNOW." He gently shook him. "But we literally don't have time to ask ourselves how or why right now. Every minute we waste here is another minute that Callie and Vanessa are away from us and in danger. We can't let that happen. We can't."

That seemed to snap Frank out of his daze and he met Joe's eyes. Joe's heart hurt looking at Frank, whose grief was palpable. Frank's face was pale and he had dark circles under his eyes, which, even now, were shining bright with unshed tears.

"I… should have listened to you," he managed, voice shaking. "I was THERE, Joe. If I hadn't left, none of this would have happened. If I only would have told Callie or Johnny your theory. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault! I…"

"That's not true," Joe said, not breaking eye contact with Frank. He felt Frank trembling as he watched him struggle to control his emotions. "I mean, Frank- I could say the same thing. I never called Johnny and I should have. I didn't trust my own instincts fully. I should have done a lot of things differently. And-" He stopped talking as he noticed how stricken his brother looked.

All of a sudden, he realized that words were going right through Frank as he was fighting exhaustion, shock, guilt, and fear, among other things. So he stopped talking. Instead, he pulled Frank into his arms and held him. "Let it out," Joe said gently to him. "You can't even think if you're wound so tight. Breathe."

Frank nodded and wiped at his eyes with one hand as he tightly hugged Joe back. He pulled away after a minute or two. "Thanks," he said gruffly and took a shaky breath. "I'll hold it together."

"You need to," Joe replied. "I understand, Frank. You know I do." He fought back his own tears. "We need to focus now and get on the same team. I love you, Frank, and I understand that you're scared. So am I. But I need you to help me focus now because no one messes with our wives. And when we work together, we're pretty unstoppable. You with me?"

Frank nodded. "Let's do it."

Joe motioned Frank downstairs where they sat in the living room. "The body of Alan Cotnig was never found," Frank began. "I heard from dad this morning. He was presumed dead. He obviously hated dad- and Collig- because they were instrumental in catching him and putting him away. He would taunt them by placing ads in the paper- not at the level of sophistication of what we're dealing with now, of course, but the MO is the same."

"This is crazy," Joe said, "but it sounds like it's the right guy. But why now? And why not contact Dad or Collig? And why the show?"

"The show is too close to what happened," Frank said slowly. "Maybe… I don't know… maybe he was an obsessive fan? But the show is fairly new- it's only been on one season. The thought that this person would have waited 15 years or so to enact revenge and wait for a perfect opportunity is pretty horrifying."

Joe nodded. "I think we have to handle one thing at a time. There's the connection to dad- maybe- and the show. And I think we need to start with the show, since that's where Cal and Van and Johnny were taken. What do you know about the production?"

Frank folded his hands and thought for several minutes before answering. "I'm trying to think of what Callie or Johnny has mentioned. I think that Cal told me that the actors film several alternate scenes for the finale, because Johnny watched it with the girls and didn't even know what take would make it to the screen."

Joe furrowed his brows. Something was bothering him. "Keep talking," he said to Frank. "I'm thinking."

Frank took another deep breath, trying to throw out any piece of information he could think of, no matter how miniscule. "Uh... I don't think Johnny knew what he was filming yesterday. I think Callie mentioned that Vanessa was excited to spend time with him."

Despite himself, Joe smiled."Yeah. No doubt there."

Frank smiled slowly as well. "She told Callie the next day that Johnny was really patient with her and helped her with all of the 'clues'. She had apparently asked Johnny to outline every conceivable scenario for the season 2 opener."

Joe sat up straight as something began to dawn on him. "Frank," he started, as he began tapping his knee furiously, "that's the problem!"

"What is?" Frank asked, confused.

"If it IS Cotnig," Joe began, as he stood up and started pacing, "then this was planned for a long time. I mean, the guy had to murder people- he killed five people, which takes time. And he did it with forewarning and planning- we still haven't even looked at the ads yet. I guess what I'm saying is-how the hell would he have known what the season finale of the show would be like? It was top secret. And in order for it to coordinate-"

"Yes!" Frank agreed, standing as well. "Yes- he had to have known ahead of time not only the possible scenarios, but also what the final scene would have been. Not even the actors knew. So-"

"The editing team- or the writers- would have known. This is partially an inside job," Joe added.

"And that means that Cotnig probably was not working alone. And THAT makes sense because in order to orchestrate these crazy murders, one of which was with a healthy male, the person would have to have been strong enough to overpower them. We could be dealing with multiple people here," Frank went on. "We need to get the list of all people on the set. Maybe even the latest script, if it's completed. Let's call dad, and then maybe we can take a look at those ads again."

Frank looked at his brother and smiled. "We're getting somewhere," he told him. "Thank you."

"Team Hardy," Joe said, and gave Frank the quick secret handshake that they'd done for years. "Let's go!"

After a quick text to their father, they headed out to the police station, hoping to find the answers they were so desperately seeking.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Get up!" the monster man shouted at Callie, Johnny, and Vanessa the next day, again holding a gun steadily on them.

Groggily, Johnny stood, helping Callie and Vanessa to their feet and positioning himself in front of them. It was after noon, and they had been there close to 24 hours.

"I'm curious, detective," he said, calmly, as he stared at them. "What will happen next season? It's unlikely you would be killed, but that would be the ultimate twist- an exquisite irony- and hence I cannot rule out the possibility. You could all die, another distinct possibility. Or some of you may be saved and some of you may die. It's really very exciting."

"What do you want?" Johnny asked, warily.

The man gave a sinister smile. "To be honest, this has nothing to do with you, or your friends. You're just necessary collateral."

"What are you talking about?" Vanessa asked.

"I didn't give you permission to talk, honey," he said. With that, he motioned to his left, and a huge man with bulging muscles, who had to stand at least 6'6', walked quickly to Vanessa and slapped her hard across the face before anyone could process the scene.

"Van!" Callie screamed, and went to grab her before she fell. Johnny started to go after the man, but a gunshot in the air stopped all of them, as Vanessa sobbed quietly, holding her cheek with her hand.

"Leave her alone!" Johnny called out at last, seething, feeling unexpectedly bold, furious. "You have to hit a woman?! What kind of man are you? If your problem is with me- take me, please! Let them go. They've done nothing." He felt Callie's hand on his back.

"Man, woman- it makes no difference to me, detective," the scarred man calmly spoke. "And you're actually the least valuable person here. But don't worry. We need to see how next season would play out. You won't all be staying here very much longer."

Johnny tried a different tactic. "Look, we've been here a long time. Please- can we get something to stay warm? Something to eat- or drink? We need water. We'll be more cooperative. Please."

The smile remained as the man looked at the brute who had hurt Vanessa. "They all beg, don't they?" He turned to Johnny. "No, indeed. It's part of the game."

"Please," Vanessa begged, still holding her face. "My friend needs something. She's pregnant!"

Callie started shivering again. While Vanessa was right- she was already starting to feel lightheaded and dizzy- she had a very bad feeling that she didn't want them to be reminded of the fact that she was pregnant.

"Oh- believe us, we know," he answered steadily. "That's part of the experiment. How long can someone who is pregnant survive in this environment? Funny," he went on, as he watched the muscleman move towards Callie, "that we don't yet know the length that the detective friend will go to save his wife. Hmmm. We shall see."

"No!" Callie screamed as she was grabbed from behind. Before Johnny could stop it, another goon grabbed him from the side and stabbed a knife violently into his leg. He screamed as the flesh ripped and muscle burned. It took every ounce of strength he had to fight the panic and darkness threatening him. At the same time, Callie was punched hard repeatedly in her back, crying out and gasping for air, and Vanessa was violently shoved to the ground.

"All in due time," he said calmly as they turned and left the room.

Vanessa struggled with consciousness. Johnny fought tears and the searing pain and excruciatingly slowly, it seemed, pulled the knife from his leg, almost passing out as it ripped through him again. He briefly wondered if he could find a rag to serve as a tourniquet. Callie gasped for breath as she lay on her knees. "Can't breathe," she managed, as black dots appeared in front of her eyes.

Johnny, noting Vanessa was still not awake fully, first crawled to Callie, leg burning with the effort, but he had to get to her. Gently, he touched her back, but she cried out in pain, moaning and gasping for breath. "Breathe, you can do it, honey," he encouraged her, trying to hide the panic in his voice. He wrapped an arm around her and helped her to lay on her side while praying she didn't have internal injuries. Lifting the back of her shirt slightly, he already saw the ugly bruising, but was pretty confident she hadn't been attacked long enough to have caused severe damage. "Oh, Cal," he whispered, more to himself than to her. "Please be okay."

He grabbed his coat from the floor nearby and covered her, at the same time realizing that he wasn't bleeding as badly as he thought- as if his attacker knew just how to inflict pain but not cause severe damage. Of course, he had probably made things worse by pulling the knife out, but what was the alternative? He fought nausea as everything hit him at once. It was all too much. Why was this happening? His eyes burned with tears.

Still, watching Vanessa get hit, and watching his very best friend suffer- both of whom were completely innocent women and one of whom was carrying a child- that had unleashed in him a rage stronger than he had felt in his life. And he vowed right then that he would get them out, safe and sound, no matter what it would cost him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Note:** I can't thank you all enough for your kind reviews, which are so appreciated, and for the follows. Thanks to EastBlue, Guest, TinDog, Hero76, hlahabibty, ulstergirl, hbndgirl, Caranath, Red Hardy, and Paulina Ann for the reviews on the last chapter. I read each one with great enthusiasm.

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 9

Callie, sitting on the floor, tried to keep her eyes open, but was losing the battle. Even with Johnny's coat, she was freezing. More than that, though, she was so thirsty and she knew she needed to eat. She felt weak and lightheaded and was fighting nausea. Her back was throbbing and it hurt to breathe.

Still, she instinctively placed her hands on her belly, and was almost overcome with relief that she still felt the baby moving. She fought tears. _I can't believe I'm gonna die like this,_ she thought, weakly, as she tried to concentrate. She almost didn't care anymore about herself. _The baby,_ she thought for the thousandth time. She wondered, briefly, whether or not she was carrying a girl or a boy, as she and Frank had decided to be surprised, though they could have found out months ago. Would she even live to find out? Even if she ultimately died, somehow- some way- she had to protect her baby. _But how? Was that even possible?_

She found herself drifting away in reverie, and her thoughts, as always, went to Frank. The first times they'd shared; how very excited he had been to find out that she was going to have his child. If she thought he had loved her before, she had been astounded to see how much more love he had in him; how sweet and tender and protective he had been with her since she became pregnant. He always made her feel treasured, even when she had been having fears and doubts about her future- what kind of wife she would be; what kind of mother. She had been so scared to tell anyone all of her fears and insecurities- and, alone, she'd created "what if" monsters in her mind that had grown so much they'd almost paralyzed her. Could she handle being a mom? What if she didn't want to stay at home and not work anymore, as she THOUGHT Frank had been hinting at? What if he stopped seeing her as his lover and wife and wasn't attracted to her anymore? And what if- above all- she was a terrible mom and made all the wrong choices? What if... what if. That is what she had needed to talk to Frank about, but had been too scared to do so. She had never wanted to be a burden to him or to anyone else. She had always considered herself strong and independent, but what would this new phase in her life entail? Her feelings were so complex and so layered, and she had withdrawn into herself, scared of being vulnerable and making things worse.

God, how she regretted those thoughts now. All the time wasted worrying- and about what, really? Frank, she knew now, never would have judged her. He had seen her at her worst and had always helped her through it. Johnny would have given her tough love and a big reality check before hugging her- that's just how he was- no nonsense in matters of the heart. And Vanessa might not have understood, but she would have listened patiently and offered sage advice and a safe space to vent. And so,too, would Laura and her own mother have done so. Even Joe, she knew, would have been perhaps her best ally- he always "got" her in a way few others did, because they both loved Frank so much and would have found a way to talk to him gently about anything. But none of that mattered now. What she wouldn't give to tell Frank that she loved him, to hold him one last time. A few tears spilled over, which she quickly wiped away. Why was this happening?

None of this made any sense. Who were these people? What did they want with her and Vanessa- with Johnny? Where were Frank and Joe? No matter how dire this situation was, she realized, at that moment, that she DID have faith that they would find her- all of them. And while that gave her some hope, she could only pray that it wouldn't be too late.

"Hey." She heard Vanessa's voice, but couldn't open her eyes. She felt so weak. "Callie? Cal?" She heard the panic in Vanessa's voice, and willed herself to open her eyes. It was so hard.

"God, Cal- you scared me," Vanessa said, and squeezed her hand. Callie realized that Van was staring at her, but it was hard to concentrate enough to talk. "Cal," Vanessa went on, and Callie watched her wipe back tears. "You look awful. You're so pale. Can you- I mean…"

"Yeah," she mumbled. "I think the baby's okay." Her eyes were heavy and began to close again.

"No!" Vanessa said, dropping Callie's hand and hugging her around the shoulders from the side. "You HAVE to stay awake, Cal. Force yourself."

Callie nodded weakly and tried to move slowly, unable to stifle a moan. She felt like she might throw up and started retching, though nothing came out. "God," she managed. "I feel awful."

Vanessa hugged her tightly. "I know, sis," she said. "But we have to stay strong here."

Callie finally managed to focus. "Are you alright? How's your cheek?"

"I'm okay," she said bravely. "I swear to God, if he didn't have a gun and idiotic cronies, I think I would try to kick his ass."

Callie chuckled softly in spite of herself. "Okay, _Joe_ ," she answered weakly. Then, she gasped as she clutched her back. "Johnny!" she managed.

"Here," he said softly, and she realized he was only a few feet away. He gave her a small wave.

"You okay, John John?" she asked slowly, meeting his eyes.

"Me? Sure," he said with a small smile. "It takes more than a little stabbing to get me down."

Callie swallowed hard, feeling her heartbeat in her chest as she tried to breathe, stay awake, and get her bearings. "I'm sorry, Johnny," she said. "You must be in so much pain. Thank you for trying to protect us."

"I'm okay," he answered offhandedly. Then he went on, "And I'll protect you," he said, with an intensity that Callie didn't remember hearing before. She didn't have a chance to think about it for too long, though, because the door burst open and Scarface, as she'd come to think of him, entered with the large man who had hurt her and Vanessa. She shrunk back, and Vanessa did the same. Johnny somehow managed to stand.

"You have one hour," the man said thoughtfully, as the goon next to him dropped two brown bags onto the floor. "At that time, Detective Durant, you have a decision to make. One of you will be set free- you choose. Of course, that doesn't mean much- whomever you choose- even yourself- will find that it may be quite difficult in the elements. But you would have a chance."

"Wh- why?" Johnny asked, completely confused. "What will happen to whoever stays here?"

"I don't know," the man responded eerily. "We have to see how the episode unfolds."

Johnny raised his hands in frustration. "WHAT episode? This is real life. I'm an ACTOR. Come on, man. You know that."

"Choose," he said, simply. "And if you happen to get to safety- you, or your friends- and you might… tell your rescuer that Alan says hi."

"What?!" Johnny asked.

"Remember- you're not that important," he answered with a shrug. "She is," he said, pointing at Vanessa. "And she definitely is," he went on, pointing at Callie. "But the presence of the three of you together with your show? Brilliant. YOU don't matter, per se. What you represent matters."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Johnny fumed.

"You'll find water, apples, and some sandwiches in the bags," he started. "That should be enough to get you to phase 2. We don't need you giving up so soon. Besides, isn't that the kind of guy Anthony Charles would be?" he asked, referencing the fictional killer on Criminal Hunters. "Complex. Misunderstood. Not a bad man deep down, but just a brilliant mind with a love for games. Hmmm. It would certainly be surprising for the opener, eh?"

Johnny looked at him intensely as Vanessa clung to Callie's hand. "One hour," he repeated, and then both men were gone.

"What are we gonna do?" Vanessa asked fearfully.

"Girls," he said somberly, "I have absolutely no idea."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

At the station, Joe and Frank sat together in Collig's office, waiting for their father and Collig to finish their updates and conversations with the PD and the FBI. Joe had called Fenton on the way to the station and told him what he and Frank had discussed, and Fenton had already begun working on a list of names of possible suspects on the show. At least something was happening.

Joe started fidgeting in the chair, bouncing his leg nervously and cracking his knuckles. While he was glad to have somewhere to start, he hated waiting, especially with so much on the line.

"Joe? "Frank queried. "Try to be calm, okay?"

Joe nodded, feeling the energy building up again.

Frank reached over and touched his arm. "Someone once told me- not even an hour ago- to hold it together. So let me give that advice back." He squeezed his arm reassuringly. "Hold it together," he repeated. "I'm right here with you."

Joe sighed and gave a small, rueful grin. "Whoever gave you that advice sounds like a wise man. And very handsome," he added.

Frank snorted. It was good to be back in sync with his brother again, and working together to get answers sure as hell beat contemplating the worst case scenario right now. That was unbearable. His wife; his baby… Refusing to go back to the dark place from which he had just released himself, even temporarily, he commented back, "Yes. Those were very handsome words, whatever that means."

Joe gave a small smile.

"While we're waiting, I think we need to go on a couple of assumptions here, which I normally don't like to do, but for time's sake," Frank began.

Joe sat up straight. "I'll start. Alan Cotnig is not dead and he's after dad- or at least trying to taunt him. It's a game to him now, which is why he didn't reach out to him directly. He somehow has a connection to Johnny's show. He's trying to make the murders in real life parallel the show- or the show parallel the murders. I don't even know."

Frank shook his head and got up to get a cup of coffee- black. He took a sip, enjoying the slow burn and hoping it would wake him up more. Joe waited patiently. "You know what's really disturbing?" he said at last. "That five innocent people had to die to make a game; a pattern; to get dad's attention. It's sick."

"Yep," Joe agreed, "it is."

"Can we look at the last ads again?" Frank asked, sipping the coffee again. "I especially want to look at the two poems. They don't make any sense."

Joe shrugged. "Sure," he said, "hold on." He started rifling around on Collig's desk, where he soon found a familiar looking file. He tossed it at Frank. "Go to town."

Frank gave Joe a copy of the ads and found a copy for himself. Joe gave up after 5 minutes, not seeing anything that they hadn't already discussed. He was surprised to see Frank's brow furrowed in concentration. He was staring so hard it looked like he would burn a hole in the paper. Joe sighed inwardly. He respected his brother's methods of inquiry immensely, but Frank's slow and methodical approach drove him crazy. Still, he'd be lying if he said that, more often than not, it didn't work.

As Frank continued to stare at the paper in front of him, Fenton and Collig came into the office.

"Sorry, boys," Fenton said, taking a seat as Collig sat on his desk. "We have the names and we are just trying to work through them."

"You alright, son?" Collig asked Frank, but he remained staring at the ads.

Slowly, Frank nodded."Yeah. Chief? Dad? I… think this IS about you," he said at last, fighting the catch in his voice.

"What are you talking about?" Collig asked.

"The ads," Frank replied. "There's… I mean…"

"What is it?"Joe asked, shocked by the intensity in his brother's eyes.

"Look," Frank answered, and walked to a table in the back of the office, where he spread out the ads. Ezra, Fenton, and Joe followed.

"BD. That's obviously Johnny's character's initials. We know that. But it could also be Bayport-that's what I'd been thinking earlier, before- everything." He took a moment to clear his throat before continuing. "The ads were placed in the _Times_ here- so Bayport means something. So what could the "D" be? I know there's no evidence for this, but what if it meant- Detective? Because that would apply to Johnny AND to you, Dad, and to the Chief, and to me and Joe."

"Hmmm," Collig replied, rubbing his chin. "That makes a certain amount of sense."

"It does," Frank went on calmly, "especially if the second sentence is true- "it's all about what you do." That could be a reference to our profession as well as a taunt to say, basically, DO something."

Joe nodded. It was oddly fun to watch Frank at work. His mind worked so differently from his own. "So we know the AC part," Frank continued. "The name of the killer on Criminal Hunters-Anthony Charles; also Agatha Christie's initials; also Alan Cotnig's initials. The only thing we haven't discovered is what "the secret spaces will speak to you" means. So I started looking at patterns."

"What did you see?" Joe encouraged him.

"Well, 1-4 are numbered, then it went to 7, which means that 5 and 6 are supposed to be emphasized."

Joe nodded. "Yeah- well, they WERE emphasized. They didn't announce anything; they had sayings."

"Exactly," Frank said. "So we need to pay special attention to them. All the murders escalated until the… kidnapping… so that was a focus as well. Nothing has appeared since." He looked at the people gathered together, and took a deep breath. "I see the pattern."

"What is it?" Fenton asked, warily.

"Look at the names. Alice Conway. Beatrice Donover. Cathy Eisner. David Fallon. Gertrude Idhig," Frank recapped. "The towns are inconsequential- just part of the alphabet game. The real secret spaces are in the names. There is a literal space- look: A-C; B-D; C-E; D-F; G-I."

"Okay,'' Joe answered. "So the focus isn't on the first names, like we thought. What does it tell us?"

Frank sighed, unhappy. He ran a hand through his hair. "Look at the SPACES," he emphasized. "And this time, don't look at what's there- look at what's NOT there." They gathered around and stared.

"Don't you see?" Frank asked quietly. "A, B, C, D. G. You're missing E and F- _Ezra_ and _Fenton_. If you look at the last names, you're missing G and H, right? Didn't you say, Chief, that you used to have a nameplate that spelled your name 'Gollig' for the longest time? It started as a mistake, and then you said the town was too cheap to get you another one, and then you decided to wear it- still wear it, sometimes, as a joke? I bet you wore it 15 years ago, right? Or, if you look at it solely with the spaces, it works backwards anyway with your real name. That's clever- shows an understanding of the past plus the present. Look! Ezra Collig -EC- is exactly two spaces apart, like FH- And the H is obviously Hardy."

Fenton's face paled. "That's all right. Yes."

Collig nodded slowly.

Joe sucked in a breath as it hit him. "Oh, man," he groaned. "The victims' ages- 12, 22, 32, 42… 72."

"And I'm 52 and Ezra is 62. Right." Fenton rubbed his temples.

"And the pattern fits again," Frank went on. "Three random women. One man. Two more men would make that balance. The last victim was killed simply to emphasize the missing pattern of two men. That's it." He stopped momentarily as realization hit him. "But now there are two more women to also keep up the pattern of 3 women, three men, three women...and Johnny could restart the pattern." Frank's voice was tight and sweat had started to form on his forehead.

"That first message, then," Joe added, pale. "It said "seeker of truth/ follow no path/ all paths lead where/ truth is here". I guess that means to stop following random leads- the truth was here-right in front of us."

"Yeah, but that's not all. Want to know how complicated this is?" Frank asked. He pulled out his cell phone and hit the internet search button. He typed in the poem. "I thought so," he said, shaking his head. "It IS a poem; it's not just a message. And the poet? e.e. Cummings. EC- _Ezra_ _Collig_. He put your initials in correctly this time, just to let you know the "G" wasn't a mistake before."

"Holy shit," Joe muttered. "This is crazy."

"And the second ad has another link that I assume is the same," Frank went on. "This one reads "Noises that usually woke me from rest afraid of monsters/ kept my father awake that night, too,/ and I lay in the quiet noticing him listen, learning/ that he might not be able always to protect us." Hold on." Frank typed the opening lines into his phone. "Yup. A poet named Forrest Hamer. FH- _Fenton_ _Hardy_. And that's a not so veiled warning that he's out to get us, too- and our families, and that dad can't save us from the 'monsters'," Frank said quietly. The enormity of the discovery weighed on him immediately."Excuse me," he said, turning to leave the room.

"We _will_ get him," Fenton said to Joe, firmly, and Collig agreed."Yes, son- we will. And your wife will be okay."

Joe nodded, feeling his heart start to pound. If this guy - working with god knows how many other people- was so hell bent on tearing his family apart; if he had already murdered 5 innocent people, who were not even the targets; if he had managed to infiltrate a set filled with security, and had already escaped death once- then what chance did Vanessa, Callie, and Johnny even have?

He turned and walked quickly outside, where he saw his brother, hunched over by a table in the back. Clearly, Frank had come to the same conclusion just moments before he had. Joe sat next to him, fighting back tears. This time, though, Joe was shocked when Frank sat up and put his arm around him. "Hold it together, right?" Frank asked, voice shaking, eyes bright with tears.

Joe tried to stop his lip from quivering to no avail. He cleared his throat. "Right."

They stayed together for several minutes, the enormity of the task before them enough to shock them into silence.

"Come on," Frank said, giving Joe a final squeeze and a quick pat on the back. "We can do this." He got up, and Joe followed. He needed to concentrate on this moment, though he felt his heartbeat race; saw his hands shake. He needed to be strong now for Joe, but he didn't know how much longer his resolve could last. Callie... the baby...his whole life dangled precariously in front of him. He had so very much to lose.

"We have to," Joe added in a low voice, thinking of Vanessa. Could Fate be that cruel to take away the only two women he had ever loved? He couldn't lose her. It would literally kill him to have to live without her. But if Frank could do it, so could he, and Frank needed his support badly right now.

Together, they walked slowly ahead, united in grief, but determined to reunite their families. Failure was not an option.


	10. Chapter 10

**Note** : Thank you SnowPrincess88 for your reviews on chapters 6-7, and East Blue, Paulina Ann, ulstergirl, max2013, hbndgirl, Hero 76, and Caranath for your reviews on the last chapter. All of your comments are much appreciated.

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 10

"I don't think water has ever tasted so good," Vanessa said as she finished her second full bottle. There were only 9 of everything- bottles, sandwiches, and apples- in total, and they had decided to try to ration them, not knowing when more would be coming. But she couldn't help drinking and eating now. She was biting into her second sandwich as well.

Callie actually felt some color start to return to her face and her headache diminished significantly as she drank water and bit into the apple. She was temporarily giddy about it.

The three remained in relative silence, each relieved to be getting even this slightest bit of nourishment.

After a half an hour had gone by, the threat of the scarred man's words came rushing back to them all. Johnny put aside the two sandwiches and apples he had left and spoke. "You know what I'm wondering?" he asked the girls. Answering his own question, he went on. "I'm wondering what the hell Part 2 is that we are supposedly being prepared for."

Callie's mouth went dry as she pulled Johnny's coat around her again. It was still so cold. They were standing in a back corner of the room.

"What are you gonna do, Johnny?" she asked.

"Nothing by myself," he said, simply. "I… I think I know what has to happen, but I need to talk it over with you- make sure we're all on board."

The girls nodded.

Johnny took a deep breath. He hated this choice- who would be better off? The person let go or the people here? He had long ago known that he would protect Callie whenever Frank was not there to do so. He had met Callie protecting her, and he was fiercely protective of her heart. Over the years, Frank, especially, but also Joe, had become good friends, and he had grown to care very much about vivacious, spirited, adorable Vanessa, and would never want to see harm come to her. He hated himself for saying it- but it was the only choice.

"You have to go, Vanessa," he said, turning to her. "There's no other way."

Vanessa gasped. She wasn't sure if she was angry or relieved; happy or upset. The one thing she did know, though, was that she was absolutely terrified.

"Listen to me," he said gently, and wrapped an arm around her waist as he looked into her eyes. "Please."

"Okay," Vanessa whispered. She met Callie's terror-filled eyes for an instant. She forced her gaze back to Johnny.

"I don't know what's out there, Van. I… I don't know where we are. But I do know several things, okay? I know that Callie would never make it-she wouldn't have a chance." He felt Callie trembling next to him and took her hand. "She's very weak now because of the pregnancy and what we've been through, and she's been roughed up pretty badly." He turned momentarily to Callie, who couldn't meet his eyes, and took a brief moment to release her hand and wrap the other arm around her. "I need you to support me here," he whispered in her ear.

She nodded.

Turning back to Vanessa, he smiled, gently, and continued. "I have to protect Callie here as best I can. Plus, I'm not going to get very far, either, with a wound like this that I hope like hell isn't getting infected. That's one pain in the ass... or leg, I guess," he tried to joke, "that I don't need now."

"I guess that makes sense," Vanessa answered, trying to be brave.

"And Van-" Johnny went on, "You are strong. And smart. And capable. Remember when we were watching my show once and you knew all about the astronomy and camping even though I supposedly did?" He squeezed her shoulder. "You know how to camp. You know basics of the outdoors. And my girl Callie over there- she doesn't. And neither do I."

Vanessa took a deep breath, trying to be calm.

"But I would go in an instant- a second- I promise you- If I thought I could get help fastest. And if Callie wasn't pregnant, and I wasn't hurt, I swear to you I would never endanger you. Please believe me. You are the best hope to get us all rescued. And if you can just rescue yourself," he reached over and touched her cheek, "then do it, Van. At least one of us will make it out. I know you can do this."

Vanessa burst into tears, and Johnny pulled her into a hug as Callie went to the other side of her and rubbed her back. "He's right," she said soothingly.

After a few minutes, Vanessa stepped out of Johnny's arms and nodded, resigned. Callie looked at her sister in law, hoping her eyes didn't betray her confident words. "You are Joe Hardy's wife," she said, forcing a smile. "So it makes perfect sense that you would be the one on this crazy adventure. And you'll be okay, because he's taught you well. And you'd better be- he loves you like crazy and I know you'll make it back to him."

Johnny limped painfully away from her and went to the table, picking up a few items. "You take the food that you have left. You take the jacket you're wearing now. And you take this." He handed her the knife he had hidden, covered in his blood. Vanessa recoiled, but he slipped it into her coat pocket. "Please, you might need it. And it will offer you some protection."

"Okay," she mouthed.

The door opened at that moment, and the scarred man came in. "Your decision, Detective? I assume you knew I wasn't kidding."

"Vanessa," Johnny said.

He saw the rage in the man's eyes, and immediately knew what he had to do. "Ms. Copeland," he corrected through clenched teeth. He didn't know why this lunatic kept referring to everyone by their tv personas or why the girls were supposed to represent them on the show, but if helped to avoid his wrath, it was simple enough to do.

The man smiled. "Interesting choice," he said. "Is that because you think HER husband-" he pointed at Callie, "your detective friend- will show up and save the day?"

Johnny didn't know how to respond, not sure if he meant the fictional detective friend or Frank. "I… I don't know."

"Hmmm," the man said. "I suppose that may happen anyway. Wouldn't it be interesting if he died trying to save her? Hell of an exciting episode."

Johnny heard Callie gasp, and motioned for her to keep quiet.

"She may go," the man said, pointing at Vanessa. "Someone will be here in 5 minutes to escort her out." He turned and left.

"You _will_ be okay," Johnny said again, hugging her. "I'm so sorry for all of this, honey."

Vanessa gave his hand a final squeeze before she turned to Callie. A thousand unspoken words hung between them. Vanessa went to her and held Callie tightly. "I'll be okay- I promise I'll do my best to get help."

"I know you will," Callie whispered.

"I hate to leave you here. I _hate_ it," she sobbed into Callie's hair. "You better take care of yourself and that precious baby," she added. "Because I still plan on being the best damned aunt ever."

Callie nodded, unable to speak.

"I love you so much," she said quietly to Callie. "My sister."

"I love you, too, Van," Callie answered, and pulled away slowly, eyes bright with tears. "You got this, girl. Kick some ass out there, okay?"

Vanessa nodded and gave Callie a kiss on the cheek.

"Time to go." The door opened and the large man who had attacked her beckoned her forward. She left the room and didn't look back. It was ass kicking time.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Joe looked at Frank, realizing how exhausted he looked. "Frank? You need some rest, man."

Frank shot Joe a stern look. "You're kidding, right?" he asked.

"I'm actually not," Joe answered, and rested his hand gently on Frank's back. "We have every available cop and FBI agent on the case right now. We should get the list of names from Johnny's show and hopefully a completed script for the first episode of the new season within the next few hours. I still need to think about where the girls could possibly be, but again- Collig and dad are working on it, too. Please," he encouraged his brother. "Let's go back to mom and dad's. Get a few hours of shut-eye. I swear to you I will wake you up the second I hear any news. And if there is no news," he finished up, "then I'll wake you up in a few hours anyway. I promise," he emphasized.

Joe led Frank to his car and motioned for him to get in, which Frank, hesitating, did at last. He stared out the window for a few minutes, eyes heavy. "I just wish we could do something, now. I can't stand this waiting."

Joe gave a small laugh as he started to drive. "Now we're in trouble. You're sounding like me," he teased.

But he sensed the tension in Frank's shoulders, noticed the despairing look come over his face again. He heard Frank take in a shaky breath and saw him surreptitiously wipe his eyes.

"It'll be okay," he said, empathetically. "Hang in there."

Frank's eyes were downcast. "You know what Cal and I were talking about last week?" he queried, out of the blue.

"No. What?" Joe asked as he drove. At least Frank was talking.

"She was so excited about the trip to Bermuda that we were all going to for your anniversary." He was referring to the surprise trip Joe and Van had planned for all of them, deciding to start a tradition of spending "family time" together as they were getting older. "She was talking about all of the places we could revisit, and how cool it would be to do it with the baby." His voice was shaking, and he didn't even care if Joe heard it.

Joe focused on the road, fighting his own tears again. "We're going to take that trip, Frank. Don't worry."

"She's been kind of upset lately," Frank went on, aimlessly. "Have you noticed?"

"No," Joe answered, honestly. "She's been pretty normal to me- I mean, as normal as Callie can get," he kidded.

"That's good," Frank replied, not taking the bait. "I...I think she was worried about how a baby would change our relationship. But," he cleared his throat. "I never asked her about it, you know? I thought that if I pretended I had it all planned out, was totally confident, that she would be, too. I shouldn't have done that. I'm scared to death to be a father."

Joe was shocked by Frank's candor, but also touched by it. "I understand," he said, as they approached their former home.

"But I'm also excited, Joe. It's the best thing that could have happened to me. What if… what if I don't get the chance now?" He fought his tears again. "How did this start?" he asked, voice breaking.

Joe pulled into the driveway and shut off the engine. He reached over to squeeze his brother's hand. "I don't know," he said quietly. "But I sure as hell plan on ending it. Get some sleep, Frank," Joe encouraged as he got out of the car and walked with Frank to the front door. He gave him a quick hug. "In a few hours, I ... I just FEEL it...we're gonna get a break in this case."

"I hope so," Frank responded, desolate. He felt terrible-exhausted, sick with guilt and worry, and unfocused. He knew that he should be comforting Joe, who, he knew, was scared, too, for Vanessa and who must also have felt pretty hopeless. But for once in his life, he just couldn't do it effectively. What could he say to make it better? Nothing. And it would come out hollow and inauthentic if he even tried. His stomach was in knots every time he imagined what could be happening. The enormity of the fact that every minute he wasted, every decision he did or did not make, would play into whether his wife lived or died was unbearable. And then there was Vanessa and Johnny. At least, thank God, Johnny was there if he couldn't be. Maybe with him Callie and Van would have a chance- maybe. If... no. He couldn't think anymore.

It was too much to process. He turned quickly to his brother, managing only, "Thanks, Joe. I don't know what I would do if I had to go through this alone."

Joe smiled sadly, noting how overwrought with worry Frank was. "Well that, big brother, will never happen. Remember that. They'll be okay." He gave an encouraging squeeze to Frank's arm and then he watched Frank climb the stairs, praying silently that his words would come true.


	11. Chapter 11

**Note:** _Thank you so much for those of you who left reviews, which are always much appreciated. I enjoy hearing what everyone has to say. Thank you to East Blue, Paulina Ann, ulstergirl, Red Hardy and Tin Dog (amazing feedback- thanks so much!), max2013, hbndgirl, Caranath, and Hero 76._

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 11

Fenton shook his head in frustration as he sat down at a table in a private NYPD office with Ezra Collig. They had just come from the offices of the show Criminal Hunters which was located far from the set in central Manhattan. "This is like looking for a needle in a haystack," he said, dejectedly. "Who would have thought that a network drama could possibly have so many people involved?" He slammed the file on the table in frustration.

"It's a little overwhelming, yes, Fenton," Collig replied to his old friend. "But we have the best of the best on the case. We'll get answers soon."

"Not soon enough!" Fenton answered, dejected. "Damn it, Ezra! I don't understand these psychotic bastards, no matter how long I've been a detective. Good God. These murders- they were planned to get revenge on _us._ Five people are dead- because of _us._ And we haven't been directly targeted… because," his voice broke, and he looked away, "he knows that no matter what could be done to me, nothing could be worse than seeing my family suffer."

Collig nodded. He had the same fear that Fenton did about his own family, and his men were protecting them around the clock. But still- while he had been instrumental in Cotnig's arrest and imprisonment, it was Fenton who had broken the case- Fenton who had been targeted in those original ads by some twisted criminal obsessed with the likes of Sherlock Holmes or Hercule Poirot. And now it was Fenton paying the steepest of prices. "We're doing all we can," he started, but Fenton cut him off.

"It's not good enough!" he lashed out. "My daughters- in- law are in the hands of a man who has no problem killing people; making them suffer beforehand. And if anything happens to them, my family will be destroyed. They are the entire world to my boys," he went on, "and Laura and I love them both dearly."

"You're right," Ezra validated. "But we haven't heard more news. It's stopped. Why? Why prolong this? The fact that we haven't heard anything gives us hope, though I don't know what he's prolonging the agony for. Fenton, if he wanted to kill Vanessa or Callie, he would have. They're being used right now as pawns to make you suffer with doubt. You know nothing is worse than imaginations running wild. And what the hell this has to do with a damned tv show is beyond me right now."

Fenton took a long, slow breath, trying to listen to Ezra's logic. "It's a media sensation," he said softly. "My family is in jeopardy- and the newspapers are completely invasive. They've caught wind of the identities of Callie and Vanessa. They're eating up the detective wife angle. It's front page news. And in the meantime, my son's wife, who is pregnant with my grandchild in real life and who should be doing nothing but resting and taking care of herself, is in grave danger. And it's a damned game to them."

Collig was contemplative. "I wonder," he said at last, "if someone is leaking information to the press. I mean, we're here to locate names of people who must have known about the finale episode. There's also no finalized script for the season opener. That's makes no sense! Why have the actors film short scenes and not know where they're going?! Unless...what if… what if it's part of Cotnig's plan to have this play out in the papers, the same way it started originally all those years ago, and he's waiting to see what happens with Gellers and your daughters- in -law. I mean, it's crazy, but couldn't it be? In his mind, he defeats and humiliates the great NY Detective- and if he's manipulating media, then…"

"Then there's an accomplice in that industry, too," Fenton finished. "This is crazy!" he shouted, finally giving into his rage. "So now we have at least one accomplice on the show, and one in the media, and probably one strong man, at least, directly involved in the murders. How many people are we looking at? Where do we even start? And you know what's the worst thing? I'd give up even looking for the son of a bitch if I could have my family back. But I don't. And I have no idea where to start. Everything's a deception, a game. How do I win?"

Collig picked up the file in front of him. "We start here and use whatever information we know."

Fenton was summoned by an FBI officer who approached his table. "Sir?" he began. "We have a general path that the truck took out of the city. We are seeing if we can trace probable paths past the five boroughs now. Also, you should know- we are going to check out this lead now- we got a hit on Vanessa's cellphone, located about an hour outside the city. We thought you may want to come along with us."

Fenton stood at once. "Of course I do!" he answered, and got up to follow the special agent.

Collig watched his friend go. He hoped against hope that the lead would pan out. But it seemed unlikely. Hadn't they already concluded that a man this smart wouldn't be careless enough not to ditch the phone? Hadn't Fenton just said that everything was deception? Something didn't feel right; he didn't like it.

From a distance, he saw his younger officers waving him over. With a sigh, Collig rose. Less than a minute later, as he crossed the street over a metal grate, he felt incredible pain. And then nothing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Vanessa looked around and tried to get her bearings after being shoved- literally- out the door. She had been blindfolded and driven somewhere before she was thrown from a car and left in the middle of nowhere.

She tried to catch her breath and fought every instinct to run, trying to memorize everything she could. _Okay. I couldn't have been in the car more than 10 minutes. So… so maybe I'm not that far away from where I was being held._ Joe had taught her that, in any emergency, she had to pause to note the details, and she was trying desperately to do so. But she was in the woods- and all the trees looked alike.

"No," she mumbled. "That can't be true." Sure enough, after a few minutes, she saw a particularly old tree, slightly taller than the rest. But she had a long journey ahead of her, and she knew she'd forget it soon enough. Reaching in her pocket to warm her hands, she felt the cold, metal object and froze. It was horrifying to touch something that had been use during to hurt someone else. Again, the weight of her obligation to find help for Callie and Johnny descended on her.

 _But_ _what about me?_ She had to ask herself _. First I have to figure out how not to die._

Then she knew what to do. She walked to the tree, shakingly took the knife, and carved VH in big letters. Then, she looked past the canopy of trees, saying a silent prayer of thanks for the clear day, and calculated which direction to head in. She wasn't sure what she even remembered about topography or using the sun as a compass- it had been years since she had done so. Making her decision, she carved an arrow to indicate her direction. She shivered against the cold.

"Joe," she murmured into the wind, "please help me. I'm scared." But as soon she felt the tears come, she fought them back. She had to get help. Johnny and Callie desperately needed her to.

Having literally no idea where to start, and afraid of what this environment, already cold and harsh despite its beauty, would look like in a few hours in the dark, she searched for a sign. And then she heard it- the rush of water in the distance. It took her about 20 minutes to find it.

A stream! Yes. If… if it went downhill, didn't it normally lead to civilization? She ignored the fact that it may very well lead to nowhere, or, if it did lead somewhere, it could take weeks to get there. But it was water, which she may need- and it was something. And when you have nothing, Vanessa realized at once, the smallest of somethings mean a lot.

She wrapped the jacket tight around her. Now noises were coming from everywhere. Shaking, she started to walk, twisting her wedding band the whole time. _Stay with me, Joe. Help me._

She trudged ahead.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The door opened less than an hour after Vanessa left. The scarred man and the man who had left with Vanessa entered, and instinctively Johnny placed himself in front of Callie.

"I was thinking, Detective," he said in an amused voice, "that things are really going quite nicely. I mean…" he paused, the semblance of a smirk on his face, "Part 2 is about to begin. If all goes according to plan, you'll be receiving visitors very shortly- in a few days. That should be more than enough time to figure things out. Three visitors- maybe four, though I'm saving the final one, in addition to your detective friends. Her husband," he said, again pointing a menacing finger at Callie, "and his brother."

Johnny interrupted, unable to help himself. "I don't know what you're talking about!" he said at last. "My show or real life- right now."

The man never lowered his gaze. "Both, actually. What plays out here will play out in the papers either way. They're perfect parallels. See, I'm watching next season unfold, but it's just part of a game that has nothing to do with you. So I just choose to watch it as entertainment. You're actually creating the script for next season as we speak. As I'm sure you're aware, you only filmed a brief scene or two. That's because the ending had not yet been written. You would be rescued by your detective friend and fellow officers, perhaps- maybe by friends. That's what your audience expects. But me? Oh- I like the unexpected. It's much more fun to have Mr. Durant and Mrs. Whitmore here than to have you, _Mr. Gellers,_ and especially you, _Mrs. Hardy._ " He paused on their real names, venom seeping from his words. "It pains me to mention the name Hardy- you've no idea. When I get angry, I have no idea what I'll do. Like right now."

Callie clung to Johnny, terrified.

The scarred man motioned for his cronie to approach them, and, in an instant, he swung right for Callie's face, which Johnny, horrified, blocked immediately.

"Don't you touch her!" he screamed. Being 6'3", a former football player, and muscular himself, it wasn't that hard to block an attack- but he was weakened and still fighting the slow, dripping, painful wound in his leg, and he was just a few seconds slower than he would normally have been.

But that's all it took.

The goon grabbed for Callie again, and put a knife to her throat.

"Move and she's dead," he said without emotion, and Johnny froze at the look of panic in her eyes.

He put his hands up. "Please. _Please-_ don't hurt her. I'll do whatever you want."

The goon pressed the knife a bit more forcefully into Callie's neck, nicking it and drawing blood. Callie looked as if she might pass out.

The scarred man spoke from a distance. "I'm currently deciding if Mrs. Hardy is more valuable alive or makes a bigger impact dead. I don't know," he shrugged casually. "I keep imagining the look on her husband's face if he were to see her -and hence his unborn child- dead. Maybe separate the baby from the mother? There's an idea. Hmmm." He paused, and Johnny watched Callie shaking so hard it almost looked like she was having a seizure. How could he help her?! "And while that would be satisfying, part of me thinks that it would be great fun watching him arrive- maybe/ maybe not with his father, which I'll decide- and thinking she's here, but she's not. Because I let the two of you go, too. And then once the realization dawns that you're not here, it may be even more fun to realize that he was too late to save you. Because the great Hardys just couldn't outwit me, and were too slow. Who knows how far you'll get outside in the middle of nowhere- kind of," he chuckled, "especially when you're injured. Plus, imagine the ratings on the show! Do you kill off 1, 2, or 3 of you? Or more, when your reinforcements come?"

He nodded at the goon, who released Callie with a shove and proceeded to hit Johnny in the face hard enough so that blood poured from his mouth. Johnny winced, but just stared menacingly as he spit out the blood. He wouldn't hit back- if he did, he knew Callie would pay the price.

Callie gasped, as the goon turned back to her, kicking her in the knee so hard that she screamed and her leg buckled under her.

Not even thinking, Johnny half dove and caught her in his arms before she could fall, and glared at the scarred man with more hatred than he thought possible. He grinded his teeth as he held onto Callie, eyes never leaving this monster's face. He wasn't afraid- not for himself, anyway. He was furious; enraged; enmity gripping every muscle of his body.

"You're a monster," he choked out. Had it not been for Callie, he would have taken his chances attacking him.

"And you, Detective, and your friend, are free to go. You _may_ make it a day or so in your condition. There's a late spring blizzard on the way, too. It's been fun. Believe me- we shall meet again. It's a promise." They both left, the door open behind them.

Callie was sobbing. "Why?" she cried into chest. "It hurts." She tried to collect herself, but her leg was throbbing; her back still spasming. She could still practically feel the cold knife blade against her throat and she couldn't stop trembling.

 _Be brave_ , she reminded herself. _Try_. At once she looked up and she managed to meet Johnny's eyes for a brief moment- but it was enough for her to see his rage. "God, you're hurt," she realized with a moan. With a shaking hand, she tried to wipe the blood from his face. She was so very grateful for the friendship of this incredible man who was risking everything to protect her.

Johnny felt something inside him snap. To attack him was one thing- he could fight back. To attack a young woman- a petite, seven months pregnant woman who was dehydrated and weakened by this ordeal to begin with- that was unforgivable. If Frank was there, he knew he would have killed both attackers- literally- somehow. He owed it to his friend to protect Callie until he could help Frank get the job done.

"I'm fine," he replied, monotone. "Can you walk, sweetheart?" He looked at Callie, shaking, ghastly pale, blood dripping from her neck. "I… I don't know," she managed honestly.

"Let's try," he said, and gently pulled her into a standing position. The second she started to step forward, she almost collapsed again, sucking in a breath sharply.

He saw how hard she was trying to breathe, to stay calm, despite her pain. "Good job, honey," he whispered as he held her tightly. "But we need to get out of here, and I need you to try again."

Callie nodded, almost dizzy with pain and fear. She held onto Johnny's waist and forced herself to take small steps. Johnny squeezed her shoulders in encouragement. On the way out, he grabbed what was left of the food and water.

"We HAVE to do this," he told her, almost supporting her fully with one arm. "Think of Frank. Think of your family. Think of your baby. Cal, we can't fail here, okay?"

"Okay," Callie agreed through her tears. "I'm trying, John."

"I know," he acknowledged and gently kissed her forehead. "You'll be okay- I promise," he reassured her. He had no idea how he would keep the promise- all odds were against them- but he had never broken his word once he had given it- and he was determined that this time would be no different. There was no choice.


	12. Chapter 12

**Note:** _I cannot thank everyone enough for their reviews and feedback. I loved all of them, and the PMs. I hope you continue to read and enjoy as everyone works through some pretty serious situations! To that end, many thanks to those who took the time to review the last chapter: TinDog, SnowPrincess88 (chapter 8), EastBlue, EvergreenDreamWeaver, ulstergirl, PaulinaAnn, hbndgirl, max2013, Caranath, Red Hardy and Hero76. A quick aside for anyone reading- many of the people I just mentioned here also happen to be fabulous writers. Check out their stories- you'd be in for a delightful ride!_

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 12

Joe rubbed his eyes, trying to wake up. He had fallen asleep waiting for news from his father, and somehow didn't hear the alarm. Glancing at his phone, he realized it was far later than he had expected. He got dressed quickly and went downstairs, and was glad to see his brother sitting at the kitchen table.

"Hey!" he said with a smile. "Sorry- the time kind of got away from me." He sat next to Frank, and grabbed for freshly baked muffins that he realized his mom had made for them.

"I'd normally be put out by your lateness, but I guess you were right," Frank said with the smallest of smiles. "I was exhausted. I feel like I can try to think clearly now, and I've been going over everything in my mind since I've been up. I've been thinking about..."

"Unbelievable!" Joe said, closing his eyes.

"What? I didn't even tell you what I was thinking," Frank responded, surprised.

"Oh...uh… I meant mom's muffins. They're so good." He reached into the basket for another one.

" _Really_ , Joe?" Frank asked, exasperated.

"Well, they ARE," he responded with a wink. "And we need a little food and a little sleep in order to function. Now- I'm ready. Hit me."

Frank sighed. "You make me want to, sometimes," he mumbled.

"What?" Joe asked, sipping orange juice.

"Never mind," Frank answered. "I was thinking," he started again, a contemplative look crossing his face. "Remember when I said that BP, other than the connection to Johnny, probably meant Bayport Detective, and how we said that made sense?"

Joe nodded, totally focused now.

"And the fact that the ads appeared in the _Bayport_ _Times_? We know that dad's being targeted, but it's through Callie", his voice trembled, "and through Vanessa." He paused for a moment, fighting the nausea he felt every time he thought about his wife with a serial killer, what he knew, and tried to refocus.

"I remember," Joe said quietly, and reached over to squeeze his brother's arm.

"What if there's more to it than that?" Frank went on, his eyes focused on Joe's. "What if this guy, who likes to play games and taunt dad- and us- what if he's doing it by staying HERE?"

Joe raised his eyebrows. "Wait- you think the girls are here? Why?"

"It's a long shot, I know," Frank said, standing up and running a hand through his hair, nervously. "But wouldn't it be sick to have us running all over New York when they're right under our noses? And Bayport is pretty big- there's a lot of dense forest areas all along the outskirts. And it starts with a B, which would fill the pattern of his name. A, _B_ , C. I…" he paused, blushing. "Never mind. Maybe it's a stupid idea."

Joe stood next to Frank and placed a hand gently on his back. "No. It's not. It's a great idea. It's certainly no worse than any other idea we have right now. Where would we start?"

Frank shrugged. "It makes no difference. North to south? Maybe east- that's first alphabetically."

Joe looked at his brother and felt his heart tug a bit. Frank was trying so hard to maintain his composure; to grasp at any straw, no matter how minimal, just to DO something. He was acting and thinking now very much like him, which showed how unnerved he really was. Joe felt the same way, but had always relied on Frank's calm demeanor, his "cool- under- pressure- no-matter- what" facade. If Frank crashed, he knew he would, too, and he was temporarily unable to think. Thankfully, the phone rang at that moment.

"Hello," he answered.

As he listened the voice at the other end, he sucked in his breath. "What?! Is he okay?"

Seeing Frank's startled face, he held up a finger indicating him to wait.

"Okay. Where? Yes. She knows? Okay. I'll be there. Thanks." He hung up the phone, heart pounding in his chest.

He turned to Frank. "That was Officer Rice. Collig was with Dad in the city offices of Criminal Hunters today. He went to talk to his officers and… and he was electrocuted on a city grate."

"What? Is he-" Frank managed.

"He's in critical condition at Bellevue Hospital with serious injuries. He went into cardiac arrest. His wife is there, along with several officers. The FBI is trying to figure out how the grate became live," Joe said quietly.

"Oh my god," Frank exclaimed, horrified.

"I know," Joe responded. "Where's dad?" he asked suddenly. "He was supposed to be with Collig."

Frank hesitated.

"What aren't you telling me?" Joe asked, startled that his brother was keeping any information from him.

"Dad got some news," Frank said at last, "that he's checking out. He's with some agents."

Joe's eyes flashed. "What news?" he said, through clenched teeth. "What aren't you saying?"

"Joe, calm down," Frank started, but he got right in Frank's face.

"Do NOT tell me to calm down," he seethed. "I just got a call that the chief of police- OUR FRIEND- is in critical condition in the hospital. My wife is missing. Your _pregnant_ wife is missing. Our friend is missing. And now I find out that you're keeping information from me, when you're my partner- and more importantly, my brother? What the hell do you know that I don't?" he shouted as his temper got the best of him, finally. He poked Frank in the chest.

Frank balled his hands into fists, feeling his emotions reaching a breaking point. "Dad," he shouted back, "is with federal agents right now and is just fine as far as I know. He was going to a location about halfway between here and the city because he had received word that there was a hit on the location of Vanessa's cellphone. THAT's what I know!"

"There was a hit on her phone?" Joe cried, stunned that the info had been held from him. "Why the hell didn't you tell me that?"

"Because it would have given you hope that may pan out to be nothing," Frank said, holding back tears that unexpectedly sprung to his eyes. "And I couldn't do that to you."

Joe glared at his brother. "You had no right…"

"You know what else I didn't tell you?" Frank asked, eyes tear-filled, trembling. "That I got a call early this morning that Callie's phone was found, too. In a garbage can in Chelsea. Covered in her blood. And I was trying to spare you that information so you wouldn't feel what I'm feeling."

Joe's mouth fell open.

"So don't you DARE tell me I have no RIGHT to do whatever I want," Frank replied, voice shaking, "because right now- I _have_ no hope." He grabbed a glass on the table and threw it against the wall, shattering it. "I have nothing."

He turned and stormed out the door, ignoring Joe's calls from behind him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Fenton Hardy, along with two FBI agents, made his way to Fishkill, NY. The cell phone signal indicated an abandoned firehouse located in a bad area of the city. If there was a chance that Vanessa was here, he sure as hell was going to check it out.

They were only minutes away, and he found himself thinking of the awful events of that morning. Ezra had almost died- might still- in some freak accident soon after he had left. Fenton tried to find the pattern- there HAD to be one; it could not have been an accident. Thank god he had lived; at least for now. And then there was the awful news about Callie. When he had heard, he had to be the one to call Frank. He took a shaky breath recalling the dead silence on the other end of the line when he told Frank about the recovered phone; the blood. He had begged Frank to hold out hope; had asked him not to tell Joe about Vanessa's phone until he could check it out, himself. But Frank's "okay," had sounded more like a whimper than a response, and his heart ached for his son; and his daughter.

He was getting all the paperwork with the names of the show's writers and editors, anyone who was in any way connected to the finale episode, sent to Joe, seriously doubting Frank could handle anything more at the moment. He was living a nightmare, and each moment seemed to get worse.

"Sir?" a young agent turned to him. "We're here."

Fenton nodded. They parked the car and looked at the GPS signal report, slowly making their way through the streets. Very shortly after, another agent pointed at the building. Looking at each other, they slowly drew their guns as they headed into the building. The first agent kicked the door down, and all three entered, scattering to check the premises.

"Clear," Fenton called out.

"Clear," came Agent Smith's voice, followed 30 seconds later by Agent Clara's voice with his own "Clear."

The men searched the premises and finally located the signal. Removing debris from the trash, Fenton sighed as he reached down and picked up a phone. It was Vanessa's, he saw right way, immediately recognizing the bedazzled case. As he stared at it, he saw no blood. "Thank God," he muttered. He stared at the phone, when he heard a grunt and whipped around.

It took only a second for him to notice that Agent Smith was lying on the ground, clearly unconscious, and that Agent Clara was now holding two guns, aimed firmly at him.

"Mr. Hardy?" Agent Clara asked, and Fenton just stared. "Drop the gun. Now. You're coming with me."

"Wha-" Fenton began, completely confused.

"Now, Hardy," he said, and he suddenly looked much older than he had appeared initially. "And don't try anything funny."

Shocked, Fenton reached into his pocket, grabbed for the gun, and dropped it on the ground in front of him. He followed the man back to the car, and before he could think of a way out, felt a savage hit to the back of his head. And then nothing but darkness.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Joe was at the hospital back in the city, having checked on Collig, himself. He managed to ascertain that, although nothing had been discovered yet as to the cause of the live grate, answers should appear very shortly. He looked at the file in his hands and willed himself to look through it, knowing he had to, but finding concentration difficult.

Why hadn't his dad called him? He made a mental note to ask one of the officers here to contact the FBI agent in charge to find out where they were. Still, it was unusual not to hear from his dad in so long, and he was starring to get a bad feeling.

Vanessa. He swallowed hard. _Please, please let the phone be a lead. Let her be okay,_ he prayed to himself, and tried not to give into his worst fears. He couldn't live without her. He... he _wouldn't_ live without her.

Frank. He knew he would never forget the haunted look in his brother's eyes, the despair… the rage he had shown, which was the complete opposite of everything Frank embodied. He wanted desperately to apologize, to help him not sink into the darkness threatening them both at every turn. It broke his heart to know how much pain and fear his brother was experiencing, and that he couldn't do a damned thing to stop it.

Callie. He fought his own tears and hoped that there was some sort of explanation for why her blood was on her phone. Callie was very much his sister, and they'd grown very close over the years. He could not have been more excited to become an uncle, and he loved her very much- he was scared to death that she would suffer the most of all at this madman's hands, simply because she was carrying his father's grandchild. His stomach knotted thinking of it.

Johnny. His extraordinarily talented and fun friend who had done nothing at all except to have known Callie. The only real hope that the girls would have might very well come down to him. _Let_ _him_ _have_ _the_ _strength_ _to_ _protect_ _them_ , he thought again. _Please_ , _Johnny_.

He took a deep breath, blinked back his tears, and started to scrutinize the file.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Frank sat in his car at the outskirts of Bayport, and, alone, he knew he could let his guard down, and finally let himself cry. "Callie," he whispered. He didn't know how much longer he could do this; hold out hope that she was okay, when every piece of evidence spoke to the contrary. How could people just disappear? Where was she? But if she was … dead.. Wouldn't he feel it? Wouldn't he know? And what kind of person would he be if he didn't?

Body wracking with sobs, he rested his head on the steering wheel and allowed his mind to wander. How had this happened? Had it been less than a week when he had held her in his arms, told her he loved her? He could almost feel her physical absence, the need to hold her overwhelming. He had been with Callie for almost twelve years, had been in love with her his whole life. The thought of life without her was literally incomprehensible. They had grown up together. He thought of their relationship, the day he had finally proposed to her, their beautiful wedding, the moment she had told him she was pregnant, and the feeling of total joy he had, which had never left, when he realized that he was going to be a father. But he could do none of it without her. This was unbearable.

And that said nothing of his fear for Vanessa. For Johnny. For Collig. For his father. For his baby… for his precious baby. "Little Joe… or Jo," he murmured, the tiniest smile appearing for the most miniscule of moments.

Eventually, he stopped crying. He had nothing left; nowhere to turn. He felt hollow inside. He stared ahead at the dense woods before him. If there was a chance- any chance at all- he had to look. If it took him the rest of his life, he would not stop.

He opened the door, grateful for the daylight, waning though it was over the next few hours. The sky was a somber gray, and it was cold- very cold. He zipped up his jacket, grabbed his gun, flashlight, and backpack, and envisioned his path. He made a mental note to give himself no more than two hours to look around. Soon enough, in the next few days, he would have the help of the police and the FBI, who could cover far more ground than he could alone. But he had to try. He couldn't sit back any longer.

He started his path, bracing himself against the freezing cold, and began to mark his path physically as he had been taught to do since he was a little kid in the Boy Scouts. He made his way deeper into the forest, almost enjoying the wind whipping at his face- it numbed him, and he needed that.

Eventually, finding nothing, he glanced at his watch. He'd been gone too long- almost an hour and a half- that meant an hour and a half back. Okay- an extra hour wouldn't kill him. He hoped. He knew he hadn't told anyone where he was, and that it was a stupid move, but concern for himself had not been the highest of his priorities.

He paused to rest and sat on the ground, opening his backpack and taking a few long sips of water, wishing it was steaming hot coffee. He looked at the beautiful scenery- he'd always loved hiking and the mountains- and tried not to think of the horror that the random victims had gone through as they were trying to escape Cotnig.

Something nagged at him suddenly, but he couldn't figure it out.

He gazed up at the huge tree in front of him and stood, stretching, planning his route back, taking out his flashlight in case darkness descended earlier than expected. Then something caught his eye. Someone had carved initials in the tree. "That's weird," he muttered to himself. "This is kind of far out for that."

He went to take a closer look and gasped as realization dawned on him. "VH" and an arrow. Could it be?!

"Vanessa!" he mouthed, shocked. He took a quick picture of the carving; sent it to Joe and his dad along with his location, praying his phone still had a signal in this environment. He asked for backup.

Then he called out, "Vanessa! Vanessa!" as he started running in the direction of the arrow, having no idea where the path would lead. But he had a path. And it was something.


	13. Chapter 13

**Note:** _Thank you to SnowPrincess88, TinDog, EvergreenDreamweaver, hlahabibty, Hero76, max2013, Red Hardy, Caranath, ulstergirl, Guest, and hbndgirl for your reviews since the last chapter. You've all made me smile and I sincerely appreciate you all and everyone who takes the time to review, especially, but also to read and follow. Almost to the halfway point of the story!_

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 13

Joe rubbed his temples and tried to concentrate on the file in front of him. There were countless names; it would take forever to get background info on all of them, and time was not on his side.

"Joe?" One of the Bayport officers approached him, a somber look on his face.

He stood up."Is Collig okay?" Joe asked, concerned.

The young officer nodded. "He is. We wanted to update you about another breaking development. It concerns your father."

Joe felt his face drain of color. "What's the matter with my dad? Where is he?" He fought back the sinking feeling in his gut.

Officer Merkel met his eyes. Over the years, they'd gotten along well and had become friends, being close to the same age and of very similar temperament in terms of loving to party while still taking their jobs seriously. He'd even attended Joe and Vanessa's wedding, and Joe knew he would give him any news straight and without superfluity. "Pat," Joe begged. "Come on. What do I need to know?"

Pat Merkel looked down before meeting his friend's eyes. "Joe, your dad is missing."

"What?" Joe cried, dumbfounded. "Frank told me this morning he was with a few FBI officers and they were checking some GPS info from Van's phone. How-"

"That's true," Pat answered. "This is what we know. Your dad was with FBI agents Smith and Clara. They located the cell phone belonging to Vanessa at an abandoned fire house in Fishkill, about an hour and a half from here. About 20 minutes ago, we received a call from Special Agent Smith. He had just regained consciousness. His gun is missing. So is Special Agent Clara and your father. At this point, we just deployed two patrols from the State Police and another two from the FBI to go to the firehouse."

Joe closed his eyes and took a deep breath before talking. "How the hell did my dad and an FBI agent disappear?" he questioned. "Was anything left behind?"

Pat nodded. "Yes," he said slowly. "Vanessa's cell phone was left. She wasn't there. Anything else, we don't know yet. Joe, I promise, man, to keep you informed. You know you can always call me. Anything you need."

Joe tried to think.

"Call Frank, buddy," he went on. "You need him here. Want me to make the call?"

"I don't even know where he is," Joe said slowly. "We had a bit of a blowout earlier. I'll text him."

Pat nodded. "Let me know if you don't get him. I don't know what's going on, but my advice would be to keep in touch with your family at all times. We already sent patrols to your mom's house."

His mom? Why hadn't he thought of that?

Pat gave him a quick squeeze on his arm. "We're trying to cover anything that you can't physically get to. We WILL find Vanessa. But we need the Hardy brains now to help us. Concentrate, Joe. Technology can do a lot, but we need to know what we're looking for. Hang in there, buddy."

With a final reassuring smile, he turned and left.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He couldn't think; not yet. He texted his brother. "Dad missing. FBI agent down; another missing. CALL ME."

Literally the second he hit the send button, his phone started ringing. "That was fast," he muttered.

"Hey-" he began, and was surprised when it was his best friend, Biff Hooper, on the line, and not his brother.

"Hey, man," Biff said. "How you holding up?"

Joe tried to breathe evenly. "Not great," he answered honestly. "Dad's missing now."

"What?!" Biff asked, incredulous.

"I know," Joe answered. It was strangely comforting to hear from Biff in the absence of his brother, his father, Vanessa, or Callie.

Biff was silent for a minute. "Joe," he began, "I'm calling for two reasons. One, you know I'm here to help. I'm not the brightest guy, but I'm pretty good at kicking ass." Joe snickered in spite of himself. That was one of the more self-actualized statements he had ever heard, and he was grateful for his friend's unwavering loyalty.

"You're not always an idiot," Joe managed.

"Neither are you," Biff quipped back and Joe laughed in spite of himself.

"Touche."

"Listen, there's another reason. I'm not sure if this means anything, but I think you should know," Biff went on, and Joe's senses were immediately heightened.

"What's going on?" he asked, alert.

Biff hesitated. "This morning I got a package on my doorstep. I didn't think anything of it, really. I opened it up and there was a TV magazine with the cast of Criminal Hunters on it. I saw Johnny in the center and I knew it right away."

Joe inhaled deeply. "Was anything else in the package?" he asked.

"No," Biff replied."Nothing. The weird thing is-"

"There's a weirder thing than that?" Joe asked warily.

"Yeah," Biff replied. "Prito and Morton got the same damn thing. They didn't want to bother you or Frank, with everything going on. And I mean- well, it's just a magazine."

Joe's mind went into overdrive. "No one else? Phil? Liz? Anyone?"

"Nope- I already checked that."

"Okay- listen. I'm in Manhattan. I'm going to call over to the Bayport PD. Collig is here, but I know the second in command. I'm going to see if we can get an officer over there and to Chet's and Tony's- to pick up the magazines. I'm going to assume you never got smart and put security cameras in front of your apartment, right?"

Biff laughed. "Remember, I'm the idiot most of the time."

Joe managed a small smile. "You did the right thing, Biff. Thanks for letting me know."

"Call me- seriously- if you need any help at all. I'm here for you, bro. We all are."

Joe nodded and fought back tears again. "I know, man. Thanks."

He hung up.

Immediately, he texted Pat, who promised to get in touch with the Bayport PD. He texted his mom and told her to be careful. And then, despite the absence of his brother, he sat down and started to think.

He flipped through the files and started scribbling anything he could think of that provided new information, even if he had no idea what, if any, was important.

 _Why was agent 1 taken but not the other? Where is dad?_

 _Name of screenwriters and editors?_

 _Get FBI to look into fire that supposedly killed Cotnig. Was he the only one who was presumed dead? Circumstances of fire?_

 _Collig Grate_

 _Frank's Bayport idea_

 _Magazine- WTH?! Tony, Biff, Chet- today_

 _Criminal Hunters_

P _eople murdered- woods; dehydrated; shot._

That last one gnawed at him.

He stared at the list, so consumed with his thoughts that he barely noticed that Frank had not written back. Two hours passed. He looked down at his phone, noting the "message not delivered" sign flashing.

"Great," he muttered. Where the hell was Frank? He wouldn't have gone to the wooded areas of Bayport alone, would he? WOULD HE? All of a sudden, he knew it was true. Frank's recklessness and hopelessness from this morning should have told him that he would have done something stupid like that. It would certainly explain the message not being delivered. Frank's acting like he normally would have was really shaking him up. Why was Frank the one blindly chasing some unlikely idea and he was the one who was scrutinizing reports? The world felt upside down.

He was mad at himself for not realizing it earlier. He called Pat, told him to call over to the Bayport PD again, and asked him for a ride back to Bayport. Something was really off here. He fought back panic. How he could handle this alone? He didn't have his dad or Vanessa there. He couldn't call Callie. Biff, well intentioned though he was, as well as Tony or Chet, wouldn't be of much use here. He never felt so alone.

"Get it together, Hardy," he chastised himself. "You need to do this." It was getting later-4:00. They'd be back to Bayport by 6:00, and it would start to get dark by then. Plus, as if Mother Nature was against him, tomorrow night a blizzard- in MARCH- was supposed to hit.

As he waited for Pat, he looked at the list again. And then, clear as day, he started to see it.

"Oh my god," he whispered.

1\. Chet, Biff, and Tony were not important, but **A** nthony, **B** iff, and **C** het WERE= **ABC**

2. **E** zra **C** ollig= **E** lectric **C** urrent

3 **. F** enton Hardy= **F** ire **H** ouse; **F** ishkill

4 **. C** allie's **c** ell= **C** helsea

5\. And, above all, **C** riminal **H** unters= **C** ollig and **H** ardy

At once, he realized he was dealing with a madman, but a brilliant one. This man was all about patterns, secret spaces in between the lines. The murder of innocent people; the kidnapping of his dad, Van, Cal, and Johnny; they were all orchestrated together- must have been in the works for years as he waited for the perfect opportunity of the show to carry it all out. And all of this- all of it- to get back at Ezra Collig and Fenton Hardy, to torture his father by destroying his family. There were more pieces missing, but he had started to put them together, and he would figure them out.

Joe suddenly felt a calmness descend over him. Okay- this guy liked games, but so did he. And he was good at them; rarely ever lost. And he didn't plan on starting now.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Callie sat down and closed her eyes, snuggled against Johnny for warmth, but it wasn't helping at all. They were sharing one jacket, though he insisted on her wearing it most of the time.

Callie fought back tears. She hated being weak like this. Her entire life, she had always worked out and been in good shape. In college, she had started self-defense courses, and, in the years after, she continued to run, work out 5 days a week, and take yoga. It was fun staying physically active, and she and Frank had found yet another thing in common that they loved, often going on runs or hikes together. When she had first gotten pregnant, she had been lucky that she didn't really suffer from terrible morning sickness. Really, through the fifth month, she'd been able to stay pretty active.

At that time, though, she had started feeling very weak; had gone to the hospital because she had started spotting a lot. She and Frank both had been nervous wrecks. Finally, she was diagnosed with anemia and with Placenta Previa, which essentially meant that it was vital for her to take prenatal vitamins, to take extra iron, and to cut way back on activity, including work, which was why she was going out with still eight weeks left to go in her pregnancy. It also meant that she would probably have to have a c-section, and that she very well might be put on bed rest. But that she could deal with all of that, as long as her baby was going to be okay. That, she knew, was a major part of the reason that Frank was always so worried about her.

But since she had been taken with Johnny and Vanessa, it couldn't have been worse timing. She was incredibly weak, malnourished, and dehydrated. She was horrified that she was starting to spot again, and she was exhausted and so cold; plus, the constant walking was taking its toll on her.

She wiped back a tear. Someone had thrown her into a van, punched her, kicked her violently- she had never been treated so badly, and she still felt the awful pain in her knee and back. Plus, she had been trying hard to ignore it, but she had begun to feel cramping in her lower back and stomach and had prayed that it wasn't the start of labor. She hadn't told Johnny; but she knew. And it was killing her. It was too soon.

She literally didn't think she could make it much longer.

"You okay, honey?" Johnny asked.

She felt another cramp come on and held her breath, body tensing automatically in pain. She squeezed Johnny's hand tightly as the contraction passed. Before she could answer, another, more powerful pain ripped through her, and she reached for her lower back, unable to stop a cry from escaping her lips. Good god- what was she going to do?!

She saw Johnny's eyes go wide. "Oh, no. No no no," he whispered to her. "The baby?"

Callie just nodded as she caught her breath. She needed help desperately. She needed Frank with her. Above all, she realized, she needed a miracle. She might die, probably was going to die, but not her baby. No- not her baby. Life couldn't be that cruel.

She heard Johnny suck in his breath. He kissed her forehead. "I made you a promise," he said as he held her closer. "I told you that you'd be okay. I'm going to get you help, honey. Let me think of what to do. Just- hold on, okay? Please-Hold on."

Callie, exhausted and in terrible pain, just buried her face against his chest and cried.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Vanessa carried on. Almost two long, unbearable days of aimless wandering. She was hungry; she didn't think she could have been colder. Her body ached. And as horrible as the days had been, the nights- they had almost done her in. She had never been so scared in her life.

It was getting dark again. She was so thirsty, too, but the awful cold at least gave her that to concentrate on. Her hands were numb; her feet were getting there, too. She had gone much, much slower than she thought she would have, and tried to mark her path as best she could. She broke branches, scattered leaves, continued to carve her initials into trees along the path.

She couldn't make a damned fire. It always looked so easy in the movies, but she had nothing. Sometimes she felt as though she were starting to hallucinate; she was certainly dizzy. The only thing that kept her going was the thought that she had to help Callie and Johnny, and Joe- always Joe. The minute she wanted to give up, she kept glancing at her ring. While she didn't know why this was happening, she did know for sure that Joe would be looking for her, and she was bound and determined to leave him every clue she could think of.

She fought back tears. What she wouldn't give to be in his arms right now…

It was getting dark again and the shadows danced around, mocking her. Every noise was amplified. She went to sit down when she heard it- a voice in the distance calling her name; footsteps approaching rapidly. Oh, God! The scarred man was coming for her- he was hunting her down and trying to kill her.

She screamed and started running, half tripping in her attempt to get away, but he was getting closer. "Help!" she started sobbing, "Please!"

She heard her name called in the distance, but the sound was getting close- and now it was getting dark. Within ten minutes, she sensed that he was close by, hearing footsteps running. "No!" she screamed.

He was no more than 100 feet away from her, and she continued to scream, giving into panic, as she took the knife from her pocket. He was behind her in the darkness, and she swung wildly towards him with the knife, just missing his head.

He grabbed her and crushed her to him. "Vanessa! Vanessa!" he called. "It's me- it's Frank. You're okay now. Everything's okay!"

She managed to look up, and, sure enough, there was her brother- in- law, her friend, looking down at her in utter disbelief. She broke down in sobs and collapsed against him, clinging to him with every ounce of strength she had left.

She was safe.


	14. Chapter 14

**Note:** _I am so appreciative for those of you reading and following this story, and especially for those who have left reviews, which I love reading. I will try to send you a PM later today or tomorrow to thank you personally. In the meantime, you made me smile with your feedback since the last chapter: TinDog, Allie B, SnowPrincess88, EastBlue, hlahabibty, ulstergirl, Caranath, max2013, hbndgirl, Paulina Ann, and Hero 76. This chapter was a tough one..._

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 14

At 9:00 that night, Joe stood outside Pat's police car and tried not to panic. They had driven around some remote areas of Bayport when Joe remembered that Frank had suggested looking at areas of Bayport from starting in the east, since that started directions alphabetically. He knew Frank had just been shooting from the hip and had probably not even meant it. Then again, Frank had done a lot of things in the case that Joe hadn't expected. He convinced Pat to start at the easternmost end of the outskirts of town and, sure enough, when they arrived, Frank's car was there.

Pat radioed several FBI agents and fellow officers to help locate Frank, since it was late, dark, and freezing, and obvious viable threats and crimes had been made against his family and friends. Frank hadn't answered his phone; had disappeared into nowhere, and now 7 agents were formulating a plan.

Joe leaned back against the car and accepted a cup of hot coffee from his friend, who had gotten it from fellow officers who had just arrived.

"Thanks," he acknowledged with a small smile. It was so cold that he saw puffs of air from his mouth every time he tried to speak.

"This isn't like Frank," Pat replied, matter-of- fact. "The whole case seems surreal, huh?"

Joe nodded, staring into the darkness. "Yeah," he managed. "It's freaking crazy. Every time I try to make sense of it, I keep coming back to the fact that Vanessa is missing. Dad is missing. Cal and Johnny are missing…" He found it hard to continue.

"I can't imagine, man," Pat said. "And I'm sorry." He gave Joe a quick pat on the back. "This is a nightmare."

Joe tried to fight the sickness he felt every time he thought about his family. And now Frank was missing, in the middle of the woods, maybe-and for god only knew how long. He began mentally calculating exactly how long it had been since Frank had probably come out here, and stopped. It had been _too_ long.

"Over here!" An FBI agent beckoned several other officers to an area not too far away. Joe felt his heart drop and ran to him. Agent Ho looked contemplative. "Your brother ever a Scout? Trained in proper hiking and wilderness exploration?" he asked Joe.

"Yes. Why?" Joe asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"I think he left a trail. A few guys and I headed a bit into the woods. Look." He pointed at a tree with a clearly marked specialty paper, the kind that came in camping kits, for occasions when people got lost. "I don't know how far it goes back, but we have a lead. That was smart. We'll start heading out in a few minutes. Damn- it's dark. It's gonna be hard as hell to follow this trail at this hour. We may need extra supplies."

Pat spoke up. "We have lights; flares; things like that at the station," he offered, and Agent Ho nodded. "Anything you have," he responded, and Pat turned around, giving Joe a final nod of support.

"I'm going with you guys," Joe emphasized.

"Too uncertain," the agent replied.

"I'm _going,_ " he said firmly. "That's it. I'm not taking no for an answer. That's my brother."

"I understand," the agent replied, sympathetically, then added firmly, "but it's against protocol and the answer is no."

Before he could argue, he heard a faint call in the distance, and then, before he could process what was going on, he saw officers starting to run. He heard one call for an ambulance.

Then, he saw it. Frank- and Vanessa.

Joe didn't think he had ever run faster in his life. He saw agents out of the corner of his eye go to his brother, who was now kneeling on the ground. He had no idea what condition he was in, but he was at least alive.

"Van!" he cried. She was lying on the ground, now covered in a heavy blanket that read "FBI."

As soon as she saw him, Vanessa sat up and Joe, now openly crying, took her in his arms. He heard sirens in the distance. He crushed her to him and rocked her in his arms. "I'm here, baby. I'm here," he whispered as she clung to him. He felt her trembling as the officers backed off to give them some brief privacy. He hesitated only slightly to kiss her face; her lips. He cupped her face in his hands. "Are you okay, baby? What… happened?"

He looked at her again, and felt his stomach drop. "What happened to your face?" he asked, horrified, as he saw her swollen and bruised cheek and eye. "Where else are you hurt?" He held her to him again.

The sirens drew closer.

Vanessa found it hard to talk. It was so cold, despite her wearing both her own jacket and Frank's, at his insistence; Frank's gloves and hat. She was completely spent; physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. Frank had half supported her, half carried her back here, and it had taken hours. She had no idea how he had done it. And yet, despite everything, the most painful part of her time with Frank was when she had told him about what had happened; how Callie and Johnny desperately needed their help. She hadn't told him everything, though. It would have killed him.

"Babe," she managed. "N… no time," she answered, teeth chattering. "B...b...but I t...t… told Frank where I think… Cal… Callie and… and… Johnny are."

Joe's eyes grew wide. She was right. Where were they? He had a sick feeling again.

"They're okay?" he asked her, softly, holding her.

She nodded her head no, and he sucked in his breath.

"D...didn't tell Frank," she replied into his chest. "John tried to...to p...protect us. But he got hurt- stabbed- with… this." She reached into her original jacket and, shaking, handed the knife to Joe.

"Stabbed?!" he whispered. "How-"

"Callie," she interrupted him. "L... listen. He hurt her," Vanessa managed as her own tears started again.

Joe was barely holding on to his emotions. "What do you mean, he _hurt_ her?" he asked, terrified to know.

"She… she was really w… weak," Vanessa cried, snuggling closer to Joe. "He would… not...give us ...w...w...water or food. He kept … he...kicked her a lot...in her… back." Vanessa was sobbing again. "Pl... please find them…"

Joe was biting his lip so hard trying to control the image that he actually tasted blood.

"I… I couldn't… tell him," she managed.

By now, the ambulance had arrived and two EMTs were rushing to Vanessa. Letting her go was physically painful, but he still clung tightly to her hand.

"Let me go!" he heard his brother cry out, and he heard the desperation in his voice. He was caught between rushing to Frank and refusing to let Vanessa go.

"Go… go to him," Vanessa whispered. "Please- help them."

"No way. I'm not leaving you," Joe answered firmly.

"C... Callie, Joe," Vanessa begged.

Joe's heart caught. Something was wrong with Frank; he saw him struggling with officers. As Vanessa was strapped to a gurney, Joe felt a hand on his shoulder. "I'm back. I've got her, Joe. I'll stay with her and I swear to you I won't leave her side." It was Pat, looking at him reassuringly.

"I can't," Joe replied, wiping his eyes.

"Please," Pat asked, and Vanessa nodded. "I'll… be okay. Just come… when… when you have Callie and… and … Johnny."

 _What the hell was Frank yelling about?_

He closed his eyes for a moment and then nodded at Pat. He bent down to Vanessa and kissed her forehead. "I love you, babe. I _love you_. I will be back with you as soon as I can, I swear it- not a minute later."

Vanessa nodded weakly as Joe went to turn. Then, he heard her gasp.

"What?" he asked, alarmed, grabbing her arm.

"He… he said to tell you… I.. I don't k… know what it means."

"Tell me what, babe?" Joe asked.

"Alan s...said hi," she whimpered.

Joe felt rage build in him and it was hard to breathe.

"I've got her," Pat said to him, seeing his change in demeanor. "Go to Frank- go now."

Numbly, Joe turned.

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Fenton Hardy stared groggily at his surroundings. His head was throbbing and it was hard to make sense of his environment. He tried to move and realized in a moment that his hands were tied painfully tightly behind his back, and he was tried to a pole of some sort. Wherever he was, he could already sense it was someplace nondescript.

What was happening? Where were the agents? He remembered at once that Agent Clara had knocked out Agent Gold. So- he was an insider. But why? How?

Fenton sighed heavily. He couldn't do much. But what he could do- in the absence of anything else- was think. Maybe- maybe he could piece together this nightmare at least enough to know how to to deal with Cotnig- or whoever else would soon, he was sure, pose a threat.

If only he had gotten to look at the files from the show. If only he had spoken with Laura; with his sons. If only Ezra had been available to review the files from the original case. If only; if only. Damnit.

As his eyes adjusted, he started to recognize the faintest outlines of the place. And, if he wasn't mistaken… it looked very much, again, like a firehouse.

Confused, he stared at the walls in front of him. And then he heard a loud creak from somewhere nearby. And it was followed by a long, slow laugh.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Cal," Johnny nudged her. It was getting harder and harder to keep her warm, to think of ideas on how to help her. But he had to- they were going to die.

By now, she was shaking badly and moaning, one hand on her back and the other on her belly. He gasped and tried to mask his shock as he noted the blood pouring down her jeans. He looked away for a moment, fighting tears.

"Cal, tell me what's happening," he whispered into her ear as he turned back to her.

"My baby," she uttered. "Oh, God... it hurts…" Her breathing had become haggard and sweat poured from her forehead despite the ceaseless wind and cold.

"Are you in labor?" he asked, trying desperately to warm her. She was white as a sheet.

"I dunno," she slurred. "I… think so." She looked as if she was going to pass out.

"Well, we can't let that happen," he said to her, kissing her head. This was all his fault and it had gone far enough- too far. He should have gone to help the girls by himself when he had the chance and left both of them behind to wait. He was hurt, true- but he was stronger than Vanessa. And besides, they- these crazy people- wanted HIM, didn't they? Or did they? How did they know Callie-Frank? Why had they said he wasn't important, but that Vanessa- and especially Callie- WERE?

Briefly, he thought of his parents, missing them desperately. His thoughts were disjointed, flashing from them, to the stage and show, to his dear friends, and former loves. He'd tried so hard to be a decent person, to do the right thing, all his life. And he was grateful now that he HAD taken chances and lived life in the moment, because life really was too short. Obviously.

And finally now, he glanced at Callie, his only real family, his very best friend. She was everything he'd ever wanted, except that he simply had known for years now that he was gay, and he would never have been able to be with her. That, and the fact that since the day he'd met her, she had always loved someone else. But if he hadn't been gay, he would have fought Frank hard to win her heart. They'd had so many memories together. She was an amazing listener, gave great advice, and was so passionate about her beliefs. Plus, he had found out very soon that beneath her reserved appearance lay someone who was hilarious and damned fun. The Callie he knew could dance til the early morning; was spontaneous and adventurous, always up for a good time. Looking at her sometimes was like looking into a parallel future world in which they were married, and he knew they would have been, had it not been that the stars had never aligned in their favor. But he adored her anyway, platonic as it was, and she _was_ his girl, too, in her own way. Through her, he had Frank now, and Joe, and many of her friends who were as authentic as she was, and that had made his last few years without his parents bearable.

He felt Callie cry out softly as she clutched his hand. Why- why had he insisted on leaving? Yes- they would have had to face the madmen there, but then he would have had a chance to try to help her. But now- it was dark and frightening; and Callie, who had always been so fit, who never complained, was literally freezing and in terrible pain through no fault of her own. Seeing her like this was making him sick.

As gently as possible, he cradled her against him, rubbing her back. He closed his eyes, fighting his own pain, freezing, and trying to ignore the her blood loss, which terrified him. How had this even happened? Taking several deep breaths, he willed himself calm. Almost by habit, he started humming and whispering words softly to himself as he tried to think. He'd grown up in the theater, loved acting, dancing, and singing. In the worst of times, going through the motions helped to calm him. And things were pretty damned deplorable right now. To his surprise, the soft melody seemed to have the same effect on Callie.

"What're you singing?" he heard her whisper, her words still jumbled together. She seemed almost numbed by the cadence.

He smiled briefly into her hair. "You know this, honey. Something from Phantom of the Opera," he said softly. "All I ask of you." Remember that, Cal?" He barely managed to hold the tune, his words light as a feather in the air. Yet he was shocked when he opened his eyes weakly and saw Callie trying to mouth the words silently with him. "No more talk of darkness/ Forget these wide-eyes fears/ I'm here, nothing can harm you/ My words will warm and calm you," he barely managed. It sounded more like a prayer than a song at this point. God, how he wished for those words to be true now. He briefly flashed back to college, where he'd starred in the musical theater performance, and remembered how he'd always practice with this song to get the right effect. And Callie had endured hours upon hours of listening to him while she tried to study, until one day he'd convinced her to sing Christine's part to humor him. He smiled at the memory, recalling how, to shut him up, she had done it, making him promise to leave her alone if she did. To his utter astonishment, she knew the part...and she had such a beautiful, sweet voice. She'd shocked him.

"Sure you don't want to belt out your part?" he joked, weakly. "You could be a star."

"I can't act," she whimpered, so grateful for his purposeful distraction.

"Yeah. You do kind of suck at acting," he teased her softly.

Their situation was dire and Callie couldn't pretend anymore. "Johnny?" she murmured.

"Mmmm hmmm?"

"Thank you," she whispered, knowing it wasn't enough. "No matter what happens, you know I love you so much, right?"

He swallowed hard before answering. "Stop. This is too much like goodbye, Cal." But when he felt her trembling, sensed the real pain she was in, he held her tighter. "But yes- I know. And I love you, too, honey." He gave her a quick peck on the lips. "And your husband will kill me if I don't somehow find a way to get you to get home safely. So let me work on that."

"We're going to die, John," Callie interrupted suddenly, voice painfully weak, as she bit her lip to prevent crying out from the agonizing sharp stabbing sensations in her abdomen and back; the abject fear of what she knew was happening.

"Not like this," he responded, heart hurting for them; for her; for her family. He made a decision.

"I'm leaving, sweetheart," he said to her, forcing her to meet his eyes. When she registered what he was saying, she looked terrified and tried to speak.

"N...no. Johnny… please."

He fought tears. "Listen to me, Cal. Please. I will find my way back to the cabin. I'll beg- _beg-_ for help. I don't know what else to do, but we can't stay here. You'll never make it." He was freezing.

"Please," she mouthed, voice barely above a whisper. "Don't leave. I'm scared."

"You can barely walk," he began, the tears in his eyes now threatening to spill over.

"I can try," she managed.

Johnny swallowed hard and got up slowly, his leg shooting pain as he stifled his own moan. He had to lift her in his arms to even get her to stand, and she almost collapsed, but he held her against him, trying to get her to gain some strength for a minute. She was trembling badly, and he knew it took every ounce of strength she had just to stand. Normally, he could have lifted her practically with one arm, as he stood a full foot taller than her and even now probably outweighed her by 100 pounds. But not now, when she was losing so much blood and fighting god knew how many other injuries, and he could barely stand, himself. But he had to- he HAD to. For a moment, he imagined what they would look like to outsiders right now, or what his director would have said: _Too melodramatic. Refocus- make it real._ The irony was not lost on him.

"Don't move."

Callie jumped painfully and immediately cried out as Johnny tried to stare at the figure in front of him. It was almost pitch black, but he knew the voice. The goon from the cabin. Slowly, his eyes started to adjust.

"Wha-" he began.

"My friend Alan wanted you followed," he said coldly, evenly. "You got further than he thought you would. He was impressed. He said it was absolutely vital that we saw how next season should begin."

"Please," Johnny begged, tears in his voice. "Please don't. Help us. Help _her_." He held Callie tighter, almost fully supporting her. She literally had almost no color in her face and how she hadn't collapsed yet was beyond him.

"Actually, that's why I'm here," he responded apathetically. "She's no longer needed for the story line, until her detective husband comes to find her, right?"

Johnny stared.

"Let her go," the man said calmly.

"No," Johnny cried out vehemently.

"You're hardly in the position to bargain, Mr. Durant. Mr. Gellers, you're even in less of of one. Let her go."

"No," Johnny repeated.

"John," Callie managed, squeezing his hand, shaking. "Do what he says," she managed and, unsteadily, almost falling, started to separate from him.

"If I let her go, you won't hurt her?" Johnny asked. He noticed that the man had had a gun on them from the start.

"No," the man answered. "But see, we need symmetry. The others… they had no food and no water, either, but they also had a little issue with bleeding from a gunshot wound. She's bleeding badly anyway, but somehow it's not enough. It should be the same here, too. We let the other girl go without it for fun. She's probably dead anyway. But back to balance."

"What are you talking about?!" Johnny cried out. "Just _please_ \- you won't hurt her, right?"

"No," the man said.

Johnny watched as Callie stumbled away from him, seeing how it took all her strength to stand up straight. Then, she simply couldn't do it without him anymore, and sank to her knees slowly, so weak she was barely able to lift her head.

Johnny felt tears fall from his eyes. "Oh, Cal," he whispered.

Suddenly, the man aimed the gun at her.

"No! You- you said you wouldn't hurt her!"" Johnny cried in horror.

"I lied," the man smiled.

He pulled the trigger.


	15. Chapter 15

**Note** : I _am incredibly appreciative for all of the reviews and the impassioned discussion/ suggestion/ imploration/ and (not so) veiled threats over the last chapter. :) This story, as many do, took on a life of its own. I write my stories in full before I publish them because I know I could be swayed to change the outcome of things. I cannot promise that things will turn out well for everyone; I can only promise that I tried to write an engaging, crafted story and to preserve the integrity of characters as they deal with a serial killer (or killers) hell bent on revenge. And killers are not nice._

 _I really love every one of your comments. Your feedback is so appreciated. Since the last chapter, I extend my gratitude to EvergreenDreamweaver, TinDog, SnowPrincess88, EastBlue, hlahabibty, Paulina Ann, ulstergirl, Red Hardy, hbndbcbbliw4Ever, hbndgirl, max2013, Hero76, and caranath._

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 15

Joe made his way to where he heard his brother shouting at someone, but he was stopped by one of the senior Bayport PD officers. "Joe, have a minute?" Officer Shah asked him.

Joe looked over his shoulder. "Not really," he answered, annoyed. "What's going on with Frank? Because I just left my wife and-"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Officer Shah interrupted. "Listen. Get him in the ambulance. He has mild hypothermia and he's having trouble catching his breath. He needs oxygen and warmth or he's going to be in bad shape real soon."

Joe met the officer's eyes. "What's he yelling about?"

Officer Shah looked at him compassionately. "He's refusing to leave us to look for his wife. Get him in the ambulance now and I promise I'll fill you in on the rest. You're the only one who can talk some sense into him, and we really need all available resources now looking for his wife and Jonathan Gellers. Please."

Joe nodded and pushed his way past several officers, grabbing Frank forcefully by the arm. To his utter shock, Frank took a swing at him.

"What the hell, Frank?" Joe shouted, dodging the blow at the last second. An officer came up behind Frank and grabbed him, but Frank was fighting fiercely. "Let me go!" he shouted, along with a handful of expletives altogether unlike his normal vocabulary.

"Calm down!" the officer repeated.

Joe was stunned but realized almost immediately that Frank was half shaking and taking rapid, shallow breaths, and he looked completely disheveled. He also looked completely panic-stricken, and Joe stopped being furious almost at once. Frank had just saved Vanessa's life and risked his own to do it. He, himself, had been worried sick about his brother up until just 20 minutes ago. And whatever Frank knew, it wasn't good.

"Come on, Frank," Joe said softly, changing his tactic. "Come with me. Tell me what you know. Let me help you."

"Not going anywhere," Frank answered gruffly.

"Okay," Joe said, and gently placed a hand on Frank's arm. "Then come with me-just sit in the ambulance."

"No," Frank answered again.

Joe inwardly sighed. Wasn't HE the stubborn one? "Frank, yes. Just sit there. I'll come with you, okay, bro? I won't let them take you anywhere." He squeezed Frank's arm. "I promise."

Joe saw him hesitate, and pounced at the opportunity. He indicated for the officer to let Frank go, and the minute he was free, Joe wrapped an arm around his shoulders and steered him in the direction of the ambulance, concerned when he physically felt how badly his brother was trembling. "Go," he nudged Frank. "I'll be there in literally five minutes."

Frank numbly stared at him and slowly turned to climb aboard the ambulance to the waiting EMTs.

"This is crazy," he muttered to himself as he immediately walked back to Officer Shah. Once there, he said, "Tell me what's going on."

"Thanks," Officer Shah replied. "Your brother was a hero tonight, but he needs medical attention. He's unreasonable right now, and I understand why. But we need him to be a help, not a hindrance."

"Okay," Joe acknowledged, waiting for the officer to go on.

"Frank left a trail to mark his path. It's very dark, as you can see, and it's freezing- and it's only going to get worse. Your brother told us he was able to locate Vanessa because she had also left trails: carvings on trees, scattered leaves and debris, things like that. With your brother's trained eye, he could follow the path. Fortunately for him, Vanessa went far more slowly than she had anticipated and, though she had a substantial head start, Frank was able to locate her. It took him quite a while to help her get back, since she was weak, dehydrated, and disoriented."

Joe nodded, trying to push back the image.

"Your brother gave your wife his jacket, hat and gloves, so he's freezing- but he may have saved Vanessa's life," he went on. "Apparently, Vanessa told him that she, Callie, and Jonathan had been taken from the set of his show and then they regained consciousness in some sort of old, abandoned home. At the time, both other victims were okay, but she told Frank that John Gellers was given a choice to let one of them go for some reason. He kept referring to Mr. Gellers, as well as her and Callie, by names from the show. Vanessa told Frank that Mr. Gellers chose her to go- told her she was capable and strong- but she believes it was to protect Callie that he stayed behind with her. What is extremely significant is that your wife had the wherewithal to pay attention to her surroundings, and she believes that she was dropped off some ten minutes from her original location. Obviously, finding a trail back at this time is going to be difficult."

Joe tried to process everything quickly. "Bayport's big-but it's not that big, so they have to be here," he said, getting anxious.

"Yes- that's what we're hoping." Officer Shah looked at his watch. "Right now, Joe- look around. We have several ambulances; the Bayport PD and several volunteer officers from surrounding towns; the FBI; the state police. We've set up roadblocks and we're trying to hold off the pain-in-the-ass-press. We're having two helicopters starting the search within 20 minutes. Our priority is finding your sister in law and friend- and, we hope, the missing agent and your father. But everyone must know- we have at least two killers on the loose right now. This is a very dangerous situation." He placed a hand on Joe's shoulder. "This may not have a happy ending. I need you to be prepared for that."

"No," Joe replied, fire in his eyes. "No- they'll be okay."

"Joe," the officer responded gently, "Go with your wife back to the hospital- be with her there. Take your brother. I cannot imagine the heartache he's going through now, but, no matter what the outcome, it's… probably not going to be pretty. Frank cannot and _should_ not be on that first line of responders. That's all I'll say."

Joe took a shaky breath. He understood, all right, but he refused to accept it. Still, it was logical- Frank was already on the edge.

"I'll see what I can do," he said at last.

"Go in the ambulance with Frank. I'll send an officer to drive Frank's car back to the hospital. Get in touch with your mom; with your mother in law. Officers will take them to the hospital as well. We have no idea what we are walking into. But we WILL find them if they're going to be found. There's nothing more you can do here."

"I understand. Thank you," Joe finally managed, and turned to the ambulance.

Back inside, he found his brother wearing an oxygen mask, wrapped in several blankets. He looked awful. "Can you give us a few minutes?" he asked the EMTs, who quickly agreed, satisfied that they had currently done all they could for Frank.

"His temperature is 96.4- it's rising. He's getting there," one EMT told Joe. "Do NOT let him take off the blankets or mask."

Joe nodded and raised his hand in thanks.

Alone at last with Frank, Joe almost didn't know what to say. Frank may have done everything ass backwards and he may have gone in with a wing and a prayer instead of logic and patience, but, as always, Frank had come through. His older brother had never let him down, and tonight was no exception. Here he was now, shivering, exhausted, and scared to death about Callie- and he didn't even know the half of it. He loved his brother so much, and to see him so empty and suffering was awful.

How could he tell Frank everything- but not what Vanessa had told him? How could he thank him for saving Vanessa's life, and, hence, his own? How could he tell him that his heart was also aching for Johnny-but especially, more than words could express- for Callie, and that he, too, was scared to death that she was badly hurt- or worse? How could he-

Then he knew. He _could_ do this, because Frank needed the truth. He owed him that. The whole truth, no matter how painful it was.

Sitting next to his brother, Joe hugged him around the shoulders tightly and met his eyes. He saw it- Frank knew where this was going, and nodded weakly.

"I think we need to talk," Joe said gently. And talk he did. The next ten minutes were hell, but he did it. He told Frank everything, never releasing his arm from Frank's shoulders. "And that's why we need to go to the hospital now. Okay?"

Frank didn't yell. He didn't cry. He didn't try to tear off the mask or the blankets and run away. In shock, he just buried his face in his hands and gave the smallest of nods.

Joe rubbed Frank's shoulder reassuringly, wiped away his own tears with his free hand, and signaled for the EMTs to come back.

And he prayed.

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3:30 a.m. Joe looked at his watch as he sat in Vanessa's hospital room, holding her hand and watching her sleep. He'd just returned from the waiting room, after having checked on everyone there. She'd been examined and was being treated for mild hypothermia, like Frank, as well as dehydration and a mild concussion. She needed good nourishment as well, and she was obviously terrified. As soon as he found the animals who had dared to touch her, he swore he would kill them.

He glanced across the room and saw Andrea, his mother in law, sleeping lightly as well. She'd almost collapsed in relief at Vanessa having been found and had, of course, rushed to the hospital with the police.

His mother was in the waiting room now with the Shaws, who had been told to report there as soon as possible in the event that their daughter was found. He knew that they were all terrified, and that his mom was trying really hard to hold it together, given the fact that Fenton was missing as well. Frank, weak and disconsolate, had finally given into a restless sleep as well in the waiting room, having refused additional medical attention. Joe had been thrown by that- Frank really did have a stubborn streak that was every bit as fierce as his own- and that was more than a little disconcerting.

He had started to look at his phone for news, but saw only his own story; the story of Criminal Hunters and missing Jonathan Gellers, plastered all over the screen. It was surreal, and he had to shut it off. Life was imitating art which was imitating life. What a damned circus this was. And the sickest part of all was that Vanessa, Callie, and Johnny were suffering terribly - and they weren't even the targets. And if that was true, what the hell would happen to his father?

The floor had a constant police presence; they weren't fooling around.

Pat Merkel knocked on the door and Joe looked up. "How ya doin', Joe?" Pat asked.

Joe met his friend's eyes. "Awful," he answered, not even trying to keep up a front.

Pat nodded sympathetically. As he was about to say something, his radio started going off loudly and he lowered the volume, but raised it to his ear. Two more officers rushed into the room as well.

The radio screamed, "10-45C-2; 10-54-1; 10-72-2; Code 10. Repeat Code 10. 15-5; 16-2; Prep-stat- 9992." Two officers spoke in hushed whispers to Pat and let themselves back out of the room.

Joe released Vanessa's hand and stood at once. He watched Pat trying to retain a neutral expression and trying to avoid eye contact.

"What's happening?" he asked immediately. "Pat?"

Pat met his eyes. "I have to go, Joe. I'll be back as soon as I can." He lifted his radio. "10-4."

"Damnit, Pat!" Joe cried out, drained. "Tell me what you know. Please. PLEASE!" he begged. "You promised, man. No bullshit. Tell me!"

Pat's eyes darted to the side, and then he grabbed Joe by the elbow and dragged him to the corner of the room.

"Tell me, too," Frank said, having appeared out of nowhere. He strode right to them.

Joe looked at his brother, knowing at once that the commotion with the radios and police darting around must have awoken him.

Pat took a deep breath. "This is off the record, because you're both my friends."

Joe nodded and instinctively held onto Frank's arm.

Pat went on directly. "Three victims; no officers. Codes were for severe bleeding; unconscious and unresponsive. Gun involved; two extremely critical trauma cases being brought in by helicopter. One deceased. Based on the call and proximity, arrival time should be under 15 minutes. That's all I know. I'm sorry." He rushed from the room.

"Three?" Joe whispered. Would a baby count as a third?! His dad? And all he kept hearing was _extremely critical. Deceased. Extremely critical. Deceased._

Frank dropped to his knees.

"No," Joe whispered. "Please." He knew their lives were about to change forever.


	16. Chapter 16

**Note:** _Happy Easter to all who celebrate! Thank you very much to those who left reviews since the last chapter. Every one is very much appreciated and inspires me to keep writing. Thanks to ulstergirl, TinDog, EastBlue, Caranath, Red Hardy, Paulina Ann, max2013, hbndgirl, EvergreenDreamweaver, and Hero76. Thanks for sticking with the story- there's a lot more to come. One of these days I'll write another lighthearted story like "First Impressions"- but this one isn't it! LOL :)_

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 16

Fenton looked up at the man who had entered the room and sucked in his breath. He wished that he had been able to think about things for a few moments, been able to try to piece together exactly what the hell had been going on. It looked like that was a chance that was not availing itself to him right now.

"Special Agent Clara," he said neutrally to the man now standing in plain clothes in front of him. "Or is that even your real name?" he added.

"It is, Detective Hardy." He said no more.

Fenton decided to wait it out; trying to see what game this man was playing. After several minutes, Clara spoke.

"Mr. Hardy, you must be wondering why you're here- where you even are. I can assure you that all will be revealed soon." He again said no more, just stood staring at him.

Something was off, and Fenton couldn't place it. He changed his tactic and decided to try being aggressive. "What are you doing- huh? How did an FBI agent get involved in kidnapping?"

"Things happen," was the only response he received.

"Come on, Clara. You're here for a reason. What's your connection to the murders in NY state? How do you know Cotnig? Why are you going to all this trouble to go after me and Ezra Collig? We don't even know you!" He tried to move against the ropes, but they would not budge. But if he could get some answers, get this guy talking, then maybe- maybe- he could start to formulate a plan.

He saw the slightest flicker in the agent's eyes. Why?

"Mr. Hardy," he repeated, almost regretfully, "sometimes life takes you in directions that you would least expect. Sometimes you find yourself having to act for a cause greater than yourself. And sometimes you have to go further than you thought you would to get the end result and do things you don't want to do. TRUST ME."

Fenton's eyes widened at the emphasis on the last words, and he raised his brows quizzically.

Before he could think further, he heard the agent say, "I'm sorry, Mr. Hardy," before he was hit hard with an open palm slap across the face. It was followed by another one on the opposite side of his face across his ear.

"Clara!" a voice boomed in the background. "Enough. He'll have to wait a bit longer before it happens. Back off!"

Fenton fought back a groan as his ear started ringing. Everything was confusing and he was trying to think above the pain. Clara… something was wrong.

Clara gave him one last glance and turned in the direction of the voice. A moment later, an angry, tough looking man who looked to be in his late 50s, came into the room. He walked right up to Fenton, who tried to analyze his movements; study his mannerisms as much as he could.

"Like that, Hardy?" he growled. "Consider that a small preview of what's to come. Everything will happen in its own time, I assure you. I assume you'll be comfortable here in the meantime." He smiled without humor. "By the way, how are your sons' wives and friends? Have you heard from them?"

Fenton stiffened, refusing to take the bait. "Why don't you tell me what you want?" he replied evenly.

"Oh, I think you know what I want- what we want. It's you- and your friend, Collig. He's still alive, sadly. That's okay. He'll be reunited with you soon enough. It'll be all the sweeter."

"Well, you have me then," Fenton replied, keeping a cool head. "So why not tell me where my daughters in law are? You have me. You don't need them anymore. Tell me why you need John Gellers." He was biding his time, grasping at straws for any piece of information he could get.

The man smiled. "Hardy, you'll be begging for your life to end when we're done with you, not just because of the pain you'll be in, but because you will have watched every single person dear to you be lost. It's the same thing that you did to me; to Alan. To many of us. And you'll be kicking yourself that you never saw the whole puzzle right in front of you."

Fenton got a sinking feeling that this wasn't going to end well. "I guess you're too smart for me," he replied in a neutral tone.

"Damn right I am!" he replied with a ruthless grin. Almost unable to help himself, he went on and got close to Fenton's face. "Morton. Prito. Hooper. Figure that out. They're just for fun; just to add confusion for your sons. The show? Have you figured that out yet? And your sons- they'll be next. You'll watch them die before you die, yourself."

Fenton paled and took in a deep breath. The man would not see him panic. "As far as your sons' friend, Mr. Gellers, we're still waiting to see what next season will hold in store. It's quite the twist, we think- the star of the show dies. By the way- right now, Joe's wife might be dead. Frank's wife and your grandchild _are_ dead."

"No," Fenton whispered, horrified. He was bluffing.

"Oh- yes," the man replied with a sneer. "You were too late, Mr. Hardy. Tick, tock- they die by the clock. And it was prolonged and painful. She didn't have a chance."

"You're lying," Fenton managed again. _He had to be._

"No. I'm not. That's why I'm here. I thought you might like to see a picture of Callie Hardy and Jonathan Gellers as they were dying. Here you go." He held out his phone. "Clara- come here-" he beckoned. "Hold Hardy's head."

Within ten seconds, Fenton found his head being held in place, his eyes being forced open. And right in front of him the man shoved a cell phone with a picture.

"No. No no no no," he whispered and felt himself start to tremble. "Please, no." He literally couldn't look away. There, right in front of him, were John Gellers and Callie, white; lifeless; covered in red. It was a bloodbath.

Then his head was shoved forward as the phone was removed. "Picture that as you wait here, Hardy. Poor Frank will be so upset." He turned around, followed by Clara.

Alone, he fought nausea… and started to cry.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"They're alive."

That phrase was all he had to hold onto as he sat in an isolated wing of the emergency room, waiting to see if Callie would even make it. He knew literally nothing, except that Callie and Johnny had been found, barely clinging to life, and it didn't look good. He hadn't even seen her. He _needed_ to have seen her.

Frank looked ahead, staring at the wall in front of him, seeing nothing. He felt completely numb, which was followed by intermittent feelings of intense anxiety and panic. He could barely move, but knew it was hard to breathe normally. He felt clammy.

Frank was somewhat aware of his mother in law sobbing in his own mother's arms; of his father in law sitting stoically next to him; of Joe's arm around him, the comforting touch almost painful to him now. He didn't want to feel. He just wanted his wife.

Time ceased to have meaning to him. It could have been 30 minutes sitting there; it could have been hours.

A doctor came out at last. "Is the family of Jonathan Gellers here?"

As the silence became deafening, Frank felt Joe pat his back. "Frank," he whispered.

Frank forced himself to come back to the present. He stood up weakly; Joe stood with him. "John's parents are dead. My wife and I are basically the next of kin." He felt Joe staring at him, curiously.

"I'm Doctor Giacomo," he responded. "I understand. Right now, he's in critical condition. He suffered major blood loss as a result of a gunshot wound to his left lung. Fragments passed into his left kidney. John suffered from exsanguination and had to receive several blood transfusions. He was already in a weakened state because of a severe infection as a result of a stabbing to his right thigh and extreme hypothermia, which resulted in a barely perceptible pulse."

"My God- what the hell happened?" Joe asked, horrified.

Frank was trying to register everything. "Will he be okay?" he managed.

The doctor didn't mince words. "I really don't know. We've started him on a heavy course of antibiotics and have been trying to work on raising his body temperature. The next 24-48 hours will be critical. I'm not going to lie to you- he could die. Please be prepared for that possibility. It's very serious."

"Oh, Frank," he heard his mother say, and he felt her grab his hand.

"Thank you," he heard himself say.

"He's in the ICU in recovery. You can see him within the hour." The doctor turned slowly to leave down the hallway.

Again, the numbness came over him. Stabbing? Had Vanessa mentioned that? Joe had- right? Or no? Gunshot? And if that had happened to Johnny, what about Callie? Oh, God. He felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead, felt Joe lead him back to a chair, his mom try to rub his hand.

"Breathe, Frank. Breathe," he heard Joe tell him. How he wanted to surrender to the darkness that was threatening to overwhelm him.

Before he could settle his thoughts, two more doctors came out, one dressed in scrubs and one in a hospital coat. "Family of Callie Hardy?" the surgeon asked.

"Here," he said at once, pulled back forcefully to the present. "She's my wife."

"And our daughter," his father in law said, holding tightly to his mother in law with one arm. The other arm, he realized, was holding on to his for support.

"I'm Dr. DiNapoli," the doctor said, identifying himself. "And I'm Dr. Weitzer," the woman in the coat answered.

"Mr. Hardy," DiNapoli began. "Your wife has made it through several procedures so far, but this is an extremely critical situation. She is not stabilized, and things are literally changing by the minute. Callie is suffering from extreme hypothermia, dehydration, and blood loss. We've had to give her many blood transfusions and have called in specialists from the NICU"- he motioned at Dr. Weitzer- "and OB-GYN departments. Right now, your wife and child are in grave danger, but I'm going to let Dr. Weitzer explain in more detail as I go back to check on Callie. Excuse me."

Frank found he couldn't register anything and couldn't catch his breath. He heard Joe say something about "in shock" and his mom and mother in law crying, but somehow he was standing, almost held steady by Joe on one side and his father in law on the other.

"Sit. Please," Dr. Weitzer said, gently, and Frank could only imagine what they all looked like to her.

"Mr. Hardy, Mr. and Mrs. Shaw, everyone. Please. I'm here to explain what's been going on and to answer any questions that you have," she said with kindness.

"I think we all need to concentrate right now," she went on. "And let's start with the fact that Callie is alive and, by some miracle, so is her child. Think about that for a minute and take a few breaths."

Frank sucked in his breath and concentrated on breathing. She was right. No matter how long he had them for, Callie and the baby were okay… right now. It was a miracle, if only for now.

He nodded. He had to keep it together. For Callie- his precious Callie.

"Let me explain where we are right now in as lucid and concise a fashion as I can," the doctor began. "Problem #1- Callie, at some point, started bleeding, probably as a result of the dehydration and stress on her body, as well as the problems with anemia that she was already suffering. Obviously, the blood loss exacerbated the anemia. When a woman is pregnant, we try to avoid transfusions unless it is an emergency, as this obviously was, because of complications that it can cause mother and child. We have, by protool, transfused her with red blood cells only, avoiding platelets and plasma. But we have to be very careful with her. Anemia can be a risk factor for many things: the baby having anemia, developmental delays, low birth weight; some neural tube defects. The bad news is that the bleeding was severe and lasted, as far as we can tell, at least a day, but not constantly. The good news is also that it lasted a day or two- not seven months. We may have been able to avoid a lot of these risks, since Callie was receiving excellent prenatal care until this point. But we need to monitor things carefully."

"Okay," Frank managed.

"Problem #2- Callie, as you know, has Placenta Previa, and rest was very important. She's been under incredible duress and thus her bleeding began. If she makes it through this, she will be in the hospital for the duration of the pregnancy on strict bed rest. I have to be honest," the doctor continued, and Frank saw her looking directly at him, "I don't think it'll be a long stay. As a result of her trauma, your wife started with preterm labor."

"Oh, God," Mrs. Shaw sobbed.

"If we can get her strength up quickly, I can't see this pregnancy lasting much longer. We've started her on injections of corticosteroids to help build the baby's lung capacity, since a barely 33 week old baby would not have fully developed lungs. We'll repeat the injections as needed. She is also being given Magnesium sulfate to reduce possible brain damage to the baby and Tocolytics to temporarily stop her contractions. She's also being given large doses of antibiotics. The longer that Callie can hold onto this pregnancy, the better. Literally, every day - every hour- matters."

"Anything else?" Mr. Shaw asked, afraid of the answer.

"Yes," the doctor sighed. "Hypothermia is very dangerous. We're treating her for it as best we can. As an OB-GYN, I'm concerned both about the effects of it on Callie as well as the baby. Fetal heart rate can drop rapidly in these circumstances, and the baby is being monitored very closely. And finally, Callie was very dehydrated when she arrived and we're measuring now for the level of amniotic fluid that she has- which is another reason why this pregnancy won't be sustained much longer. There are other potential problems with dehydration, but we're taking things one moment at a time. She also has a bruised kidney, which we saw after noting a huge bruise on her back, and, oddly, a sprained knee. That's not serious. She was in the surgery unit for transfusions only and to work on her body temperature. Unlike her friend, she was not shot or stabbed. Do you have any questions?"

Frank felt his heart pounding and forced himself to focus. "Is she awake?"

"No- she hasn't regained consciousness."

"Will she?" he whispered.

"We honestly don't know," the doctor replied.

"But if she doesn't regain consciousness- what happens?" Joe asked, and Frank heard the fear in his voice.

"It depends," the doctor said, her voice serious. "If she continues to get weaker," she paused before continuing, "and is showing signs of crashing, then we'll have no choice but to operate to save the baby, because…."

 _Oh, God. Because she'll die anyway._ Frank felt his stomach turn and his head start to pound.

Frank felt Joe squeeze his hand and hold on tightly.

"And if she does wake up, is she even strong enough to have the baby?" Frank asked weakly.

"We won't know that for awhile. A lot of factors come into play here- vaginal birth or c-section- could she make it through an operation with such severe blood loss? Normally a C-section is standard with Callie's condition, as its best for the health of mother and health of baby, but the extent of bleeding and severity of contractions have to play a big role here. Honestly, we just don't know."

"Ideally, if everything goes well, how long… how long _could_ Callie hold onto the pregnancy?" Frank heard his father in law ask.

The doctor smiled kindly. "Technically, there's no answer to that. But based on my experience and her health, I'd say a matter of days."

Frank felt like he couldn't breathe.

"Mr. Hardy," the doctor said compassionately, "A lot could go wrong- yes. Honestly speaking, your wife is in critical condition. There is no way to know which way she will turn, and, frankly, her condition is grave. We are doing all we can in this scenario. But please know- for your child at least- we have a top-notch NICU here and babies born at 32- 33 weeks have an excellent survival rate. They're preemies, not super preemies. Have faith. You'll be a father very soon."

"Can I see her? Please?" he begged.

"Soon," the doctor promised."I'll let you know shortly."

Frank felt as though the walls were closing in on him. He stood suddenly and bolted out of the room, barely making it to the bathroom before he started vomiting. His stomach was churning; his heart was pounding. He felt like his legs would give out beneath him. Weakly, he stumbled to the sink and splashed his face with cold water, trying to stop the shaking, to get his emotions under control. This felt like the longest day of his life.

Finally, he was able to leave the bathroom and he sank to the floor a few feet away, head buried in his hands. It was only moments later when he felt Joe sit down next to him and pull him into a tight hug. "Why, Joe?" he managed as he felt the tears threaten to spill over.

"I don't know," Joe answered."But I'm right here with you."

Frank just clung onto his brother, and, unable to hold back any longer, allowed himself to cry.


	17. Chapter 17

**Note** : _I cannot thank all of you enough for the reviews; they mean so much! Thank you to TinDog, hbndgirl, SnowPrincess88, East Blue, Evergreendreamweaver, ulstergirl, max 2013, Red Hardy, hlahabibty, Paulina Ann, caranath, BeeBee18, and Hero 76 for taking the time to comment since the last chapter. This chapter changed the entire course of the story. Please read the note at the end. Many thanks!_

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 17

"Babe, are you sure?" Joe asked Vanessa almost two days later. He sat next to her on the hospital bed as she was preparing to be discharged.

"Of course I'm sure," she emphasized, holding Joe's hand. "I wouldn't leave now anyway. Not with...everything." Her voice trailed off.

Joe slipped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her head. Vanessa was recovered enough to go home, but the police department and FBI, working in conjunction with the hospital staff, had requested that Vanessa be sequestered at the hospital for a few more days until the suspects were caught. Given the serious nature of the crimes, as well as the targeted attacks on the Hardy family and the law enforcement resources being stretched in several directions, head officers felt that Vanessa would be safer here. As much as Joe wanted her to be comfortable at their home, he couldn't help but agree.

"Any news about Callie?" she asked hopefully.

"Not yet, babe," Joe answered, pulling her into a hug. Callie hadn't regained consciousness, but was finally stable. Doctors remained very concerned, but were hopeful given that she hadn't regressed further.

"How's Frank holding up? He must be terrified," she whispered into his shoulder.

"He is," Joe admitted as he rubbed her back. "But he's strong. He made a promise to me- to himself- that he would keep things together. If Callie holds on- and she HAS to," he continued in a shaky voice, "then I know he'll be okay." Slowly, he pulled back from Vanessa, though he still kept an arm around her. "I've been thinking, Van. We still don't know where dad is; we still have no answers. I think Frank and I need to restart the investigation now. If the FBI and local officers can't find anything, then we HAVE to. I cannot let my dad suffer. I can't let what you've been through- what Callie and Johnny and Chief Collig have been through- go unpunished. Frank needs this more than ever, too. It'll keep him from getting sick every time he starts thinking about Callie and the baby if he has something to concentrate on."

"And Johnny?" she asked. "Oh, Joe. He was so brave. He tried so hard to protect us." She wiped the tears from her eyes.

"The doctor told Frank he just regained consciousness a few hours ago. I want to talk to him- see what happened."

"Thank God," Vanessa whispered.

"He's still in really bad shape, Van," Joe cautiously told her. "I don't want to push it too far, but I want to see him."

"I think I'll go spend time with your mom now," she said at last. "My mom and Callie's parents have been here nonstop. Maybe I can fill them in and try to distract them a little."

"That'd be nice. Only if you're up for it, though," he emphasized.

At that moment, Frank walked in the room. He was thinner, pale, and had dark circles under his eyes, but he looked remarkably calm. Vanessa hadn't seen him since he'd rescued her. She tried to smile at him through her tears as she stood and walked to him. Frank enveloped her in a tight hug.

"Hey, Van," he said in a low voice as he looked over her shoulder and gave Joe a quick wave. "How's my favorite sister in law?"

Vanessa stayed in Frank's embrace as she moved her head from his shoulder to meet his eyes. "You saved my life," she managed. "I don't know how to thank you."

Frank winked at her. "My thanks is that you're okay. Joe would be a real pain in the ass to deal with if I let you die."

Vanessa, surprised at Frank's response, laughed. "How are you holding up?" she asked, serious again. She touched his cheek gently. Over the years, she and Frank had gotten along just fine, but they had never been very close. Instead, she had formed a very tight bond with Callie, and she knew that Joe and Callie were extremely close as well. But that night, when Frank had risked everything to save her, putting aside his own health for her, his own heartache and fear for Callie to get her to safety, she saw a side to him she had never witnessed before: utter selflessness, kindness, and bravery up close. She had a feeling that it would be the start of a new relationship for them. Callie had always told her how funny Frank was, how there was a deeply affectionate and tender side to him that he hid behind his quiet facade. She wondered how many other sides of Frank there were, and she was looking forward to finding out.

"I'm… I'm okay," he replied at last.

"Well, that's better than you probably could have hoped for a few days ago, huh?" she asked, wiping at her eyes again.

Frank gave a genuine smile at her answer. "You're absolutely right," he answered and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Break it up, you two," Joe called as he walked over to both of them. "Nice try, Frank, but she already landed the handsome brother."

"If by "handsome" you mean "loud and obnoxious" brother, then yes- I agree," he answered.

Joe smiled and gave Frank a quick squeeze on his arm. Although Frank was going through absolute hell right now, it was good to see him able to function, to still retain even a glimmer of his sense of humor.

"Are you ready?" he asked Joe, who nodded. They had a full schedule ahead. The plan was to talk to Johnny, and then meet with Chief Collig, who had been released from the city hospital and who had insisted on traveling to the Bayport Hospital to meet with his officers and Frank and Joe. Then, they had a meeting with the head of the FBI unit assigned to the case, who would be keeping them abreast of developments from the pursuit and the show's staff, and who would be receiving information on the man who had been brought in, dead, with Johnny and Callie. They needed to break this case open-get any information to save their father.

With final hugs for Vanessa, they headed for Johnny.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Before they reached the room, Frank turned to Joe. "Tell me again exactly what Vanessa told you about the abduction. I need to make sure we have this straight before we talk to Johnny.

Joe nodded. "On the day they were taken, from her perspective, it basically looked exactly like the finale of Criminal Hunters. She was grabbed and thrown into a van. She didn't know how Johnny or Callie were taken, because she was unconscious. Assuming they were taken like she was, simultaneously, that meant three people were there."

Frank's expression was serious. "Plus a driver, unless one of them was the driver."

"Any luck on surveillance?" Joe asked. "Or is that something we're talking to the agents about later?"

"The agents, I think. I haven't heard anything," Frank replied. "When Van was with Cotnig, she said that he kept calling Johnny by his show name; he even called her and Cal by the names of the people on the show as well. Van was the best friend's name and Callie was the wife of the detective. Cotnig held a gun on them. They weren't given food or drink for a few days and were kept in a room in the cold. Ultimately, Johnny was told to decide who could go and who couldn't. Am I leaving anything out?" he queried.

"Cotnig didn't actually hurt them," Joe said quietly. "Van said a goon- big guy- bigger than Biff- went after them. She said that Johnny tried to protect them. But he couldn't. She said the big guy stabbed Johnny… hit her and threw her down."

"And kicked Callie repeatedly," Frank added, and Joe noticed how one of his hands had unconsciously balled into a fist. "That's probably how she got the bruised kidney." He turned to Joe, who saw how Frank was trying to remain calm. "Do you know how hard you have to kick someone to hurt him or her that bad?" The tremor in his voice conveyed his anger and fear.

Joe sighed. He felt the same rage Frank did, but Vanessa would be okay now, and Callie might not be. That was the only reason that he had any semblance of control right now. "I know," he answered, calmly. "Of course I know." Then, an idea struck him. "You know, Van said that when he hurt them, especially when Johnny was stabbed, that it looked as though the guy knew how to inflict enough damage to cause pain but not enough to kill them. I think that's worth noting."

Frank contemplated his words as they reached the ICU. Before the officer could usher them in, a doctor started to walk past from the direction of Johnny's room, giving the brothers a grim smile. Frank froze as a chill ran through him, watched the doctor go by, and suddenly stopped Joe.

"Joe, I need to see him first," he said quietly. Seeing Joe's confused expression, he looked down for a moment before meeting Joe's eyes again. "He's Callie's best friend. He was staying at my house. I know you're friendly with him and like him, but he's like a part of my family- the one I have with Callie. He's really a good friend to me, too. Let me go. I promise I'll tell you everything. I just don't want to overwhelm him."

Joe was about to protest, but he saw the determination... the utter gravity... in Frank's eyes. "Go," he said at last. "I'll be waiting here." Frank nodded and entered the room. In the past two days, Johnny had been in and out of consciousness, and though he and Frank had been to see him several times, they hadn't been able to speak much at all. He hoped that Frank would have better luck now.

Joe started checking his watch after 15 minutes had passed. Soon after, he heard a commotion coming from the room- several doctors started rushing in, but Frank did not come out. Then, after 30 minutes, he checked again. By the time 45 minutes had passed, he was ready to burst into the room as several doctors left, shaking their heads, charts in their hands, beepers and cell phones out. Frank came out after an hour. He was the last one to leave.

Joe started to bombard Frank with questions, but stopped when he saw the look on his brother's face. Instinctively, he grabbed his arm. "What's wrong?" Frank's eyes were haunted; he was fighting tears.

"Come with me," he said in a clipped voice. After a few minutes, they arrived in the back corner of the waiting room outside the ICU, where Frank sat down. He was shaking.

"Frank?" Joe asked, nervous now as he watched Frank rest his head in his hands and try to catch his breath. "Frank?! Tell me - what happened? What did he say?"

When Frank looked back up, tears were streaming from his eyes. He spoke in a voice broken by small gasps of air, his voice strained more and more with each statement he made. Joe listened, horrified by the look on Frank's face. "He said he tried to protect Callie, that she was kicked in her knee and was bleeding and weak and she could barely walk. He told me what was done to him; what Cotnig told him. He told me what he and Callie talked about in the woods-that he was so scared she would freeze even though she had his coat." He stopped, closed his eyes.

"Frank?" Joe prodded. "Keep going." Joe felt his stomach turn. Frank was really shaken- something was horribly wrong.

When Frank looked up again, his eyes stared at the wall in front of him, avoiding Joe. He seemed to be speaking from somewhere not inside him. The tears continued to fall.

"Then he told me that he was going to go back. He said he made a terrible mistake taking Callie out. Cotnig had let them go."

Joe was trying to follow Frank's disjointed timeline as he listened.

"And then the big guy came back with a gun and promised that if he let her go, she wouldn't get hurt. He said he wouldn't shoot. But he did. He tried to kill Callie."

Joe sucked in his breath. "It's okay," he started, "Now-"

Frank talked so slowly, otherworldly, right over him, ignoring Joe's interruption. "But Johnny saw what was happening, and he jumped in front of her. He was shot protecting Callie. Then he somehow managed to get the gun. Said the guy was startled he hadn't killed Callie. And Johnny killed him."

Joe was silent, watching his brother. He looked absolutely stricken; shocked.

"Okay," was all he could think to say. As he began to collect his thoughts, Frank continued to talk to the wall.

"He kept apologizing. Can you believe that? He kept saying he was sorry he couldn't protect her more. He said he held her when the shot went off and he was hit, because no matter how much pain she was in, how much she was bleeding, herself, she was terrified for him. He kept saying he was sorry he couldn't keep her safe. " Frank's repetition was unlike him, and his voice had a faraway quality that made Joe very nervous. "He was so relieved when I told him she was alive." By now, Frank's chin was quivering and he was gripping tightly the arms of the chair. "He said he was waiting for me. He had to know Callie was okay. He said to tell her that he loved her. And then…"

"And then what?" Joe asked, fearful for his brother's reaction to Johnny's news.

Finally, Frank faced him with a look so haunted that Joe couldn't speak.

"And then he died."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 **Note** : Welcome to my first and only author's note, placed here so I wouldn't ruin what happened before you read it. Let me assure you that I agonized over this chapter. Literally. The story was planned in a whole other way. And I love Johnny; I do. I almost cried when the chapter kept screaming at me to do this. I fought the muses. I re-wrote this chapter at least 10 times. I refused to let my Johnny die. It just wasn't supposed to happen. I had to stop the story here when I wrote it and take pause; did I even want to go on? And I almost trashed the whole story here- because it was too sad for me. But then a great thing happened. I became inspired. Johnny sacrificed himself so that this story would make sense in the way that it needed to, and, were it not for this moment, the next story, which I am so passionate about, would never have come into being. I decided to challenge myself to make some really tough choices, to go for literary merit instead of taking the expected route, and I shall do this going forward in my stories. For that, I thank Johnny.

This is the last time I shall insert my own voice. I prefer to think of myself as a vehicle through which these characters' stories are crafted as they wish them to be. As such, I am not important and cease to exist. This is their story to tell as they wish to do so. Thank you.


	18. Chapter 18

**Note:** _I just wanted to say a sincere thanks to everyone who left feedback and provided support on the last chapter. It means so much that you took the time to do so. Thus, I extend my gratitude to TinDog, Barb, EastBlue, Red Hardy, EvergreeenDreamweaver, hbndgirl, Guest, ulstergirl, Paulina Ann, max 2013, BeeBee18, Hero76, and Caranath.I hope you continue to read and enjoy, and don't worry- while Johnny really is gone, it is absolutely not the last you will hear from/ about him. :)_

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 18

Joe's mouth fell open and he felt his heart skip a beat. "Wh-what?" he whispered. But the look on Frank's face spoke volumes.

Frank wiped his eyes. "Joe, I have to go," he managed to get out. "Just- I need to take care of some things. For Johnny." He tried to calm his pounding heart. "Can you talk to Collig for me- please? I- I'll have to catch up with you in a little."

"He died?" Joe whispered. He felt sick. No... no. He must have misheard. Not Johnny.

Frank nodded slowly, still reeling. "It's like he held on… 'til he saw me. He was okay and then it's like… like he crashed...I'm glad I was there. I wouldn't have wanted him to be alone. Joe, please. I…."

"Go," Joe agreed, in shock himself. He leaned over and hugged Frank tightly. "I'm so sorry," he added in a low voice. And he really was, more than he could even process. The famous actor who was really just Callie's best friend had died protecting her; protecting Vanessa.

"No," he whispered as he watched Frank walk away, hunched over and wiping back tears.

He couldn't even think of revenge. Right now, he couldn't think anything at all as he felt numbness clutching him tightly. And it wouldn't let go.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Frank retreated to Callie's room where, mercifully, her parents were absent. While he loved his in laws, he couldn't face them- he couldn't face anyone- right now.

He walked to Callie's bedside and took her hand. How could he tell her about Johnny? It would absolutely kill her. And she was barely holding on herself at this point. He sat down on the chair beside her bed and reached his other hand over to gently move her hair back from her forehead.

In all the years they'd been together, he had seen her in a hospital exactly twice. Once, years ago, had been as a result of a case she had gotten involved in, but that time had resulted in a true breakthrough in her relationship with Joe. Another time had been when she had broken her wrist on a skiing trip with him, but that had resulted somehow in a romantic and sweet weekend where they were stuck indoors, and it had been the weekend that he had come to finally decide that he wanted to marry her at last. Both times had been bad, but had yielded excellent outcomes. How could he even pray for that to happen this time?

He didn't know what to do; what to think. All of his life, he had conditioned himself not to cry; to be the strong one who held everything together for everyone. In the past week or two, he had cried more than he thought possible. And though Joe had been incredibly supportive, he knew that his inability to control his wildly swinging emotions was throwing Joe's game off, too. Like it or not, his job had always been to protect his brother and to be the logical, steady force against the whirlwind of his brother's large personality. And it had always worked- until now.

He needed to ground himself and for his world to stop spinning. He wanted to have someone help _him_ , but who? He could definitely talk to Joe, but he would still be a mess right now, and Joe didn't need that. He wished more than anything that he could speak to his dad- but he couldn't, and the thought that he could be hurt or… or dead… literally caused him pain. His mom was being very strong, but he knew she was terrified about his father, and that, deep down, even she relied on him to be the steady rock. He knew he could talk to Vanessa, but he wasn't ready to do so-not yet- she simply didn't know him as well as he would have liked; at least he now knew that he could change that relationship in the future. His in-laws were barely holding on, terrified for Callie and the baby. He absolutely would have talked to Johnny, whom he had come to think of almost as a second brother; certainly a member of the family at the very least. Johnny had been so vitally important to Callie, and, in many ways, to him. He couldn't think about that now. Johnny was gone. So he found himself talking to the one person he told everything to, the person who would have understood, the person he loved more than he could ever put into words.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said to Callie, rubbing her hand. "I know you can't hear me, but I hope you know I'm here. Cal, I don't know what to do. I'm lost. For the first time in my life, I feel out of control. I feel so damned guilty that this happened to you and not me, that I couldn't protect you. And I'm so sorry, baby. I couldn't- I still _can't-_ protect anyone, and I can't control my guilt, fear, sorrow… rage. How do I get myself together? This isn't me. Or is it? I don't even know anymore. I can't believe that less than two weeks ago, life was so normal. God, I'd give anything to have that time back. I'd never take a single second for granted." He paused, somehow feeling ever so slightly better getting his emotions out.

"Babe, Vanessa's okay. Do you know that? She made it. But dad's missing and I'm scared. I… I feel like I can't solve the most important case in my life, and, if I do, it'll be too late. And then…" he took a deep breath before going on, "Johnny _died,_ Callie. I'm kind of glad you don't know that now, but I think I should tell you. He told me how brave you were. Of _course_ you were- you're _always_ brave. He knew that as much as I did. So was he- he was so brave, too. He saved your life, honey. That's how much he loved you. And he told me to tell you how much he cared about you before he...left. And he saw you through -". His voice broke. He would not and could not think of that now. God. His poor angel. How many bad things could happen to a person in one lifetime? "So you need to be okay, Cal, because that's the only thing that mattered to him. So be okay- for Johnny."

Frank leaned over and kissed her lips lightly. He continued to hold her hand and reached over and placed his other hand on her stomach, trying to ignore all of the monitors, the IVs, and other machinery that was literally helping Callie fight for her life. " _Please,_ baby. I can't do this without you. I need you. I need our little one to be okay, and I can't guarantee that if I don't have you. If _you_ are okay, everything else will be, too. You and this precious baby are my life, and I love you more than you will ever know. Please come back to me."

He closed his eyes, continuing to hold her hand; to rest his other hand on her stomach, reassuring himself that his child would be a survivor, too, like his or her mommy. Soon he dozed off, the stress of the day overwhelming him.

He had no idea how long he was out, only that he was awakened by the gentlest touch on his hand, the faintest mention of his name. When he opened his eyes, he found Callie half-staring at him, tears in her eyes.

"I'm back," she whispered in the weakest voice, touching his hand lightly, before her eyes closed again...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Joe made his way to the hospital meeting room where he and Frank were supposed to meet with Collig. He was a few minutes early, and was grateful for the reprieve.

Johnny was dead. He was _dead._ How was that even possible? He found himself wiping back tears of his own. He'd known Johnny for about five or six years now, and he couldn't have pictured a more generous, fun-loving, or easygoing person. He'd really gotten to know Johnny when Frank and Callie had gotten engaged, and, even now, in the midst of this horrific news, he had to smile when he thought about the insanity of the bachelor party he'd planned with Johnny. And then his own bachelor party that Johnny had helped Frank plan that somehow, against all odds, ended up being crazier than Frank's had been. That's when he'd first started spending a lot of time with him.

He used to tease Johnny all the time about faking being gay, because the guy had more girls falling over him than Joe had even met in his life. At first, he hadn't been kidding, and really had thought that Johnny was just claiming to be gay to get close to Callie- because Johnny loved Callie-adored her- that much was clear. But Frank had always trusted him, and for Frank to trust anyone with Callie, much less a guy, was unheard of. And, of course, Johnny's presence initially annoyed him, because not only was Vanessa obsessed with him, and Callie spent inordinate amounts of time with him, but also because, as he grew to be very close with Callie, some part of him felt a little, weirdly, jealous of Johnny- as though Callie was his sister and Johnny didn't deserve such insights into her life.

But he had been very wrong. Johnny was one of the nicest, funniest, wildest people he'd ever met. And he was, in fact, gay- but his sexuality was no more of an issue to Joe than Joe's was to him. He was as sweet as could be with Vanessa, humoring her with answers to her crazy star-struck questions for hours on end and taking her to meet any actor or actress that he knew that she wanted to see. He was fiercely protective of Callie, and it provided him with comfort, knowing Johnny would take care of her- and Vanessa-when Johnny was around and he and Frank weren't. Johnny had even struck up a fun friendship with Biff and their constant bickering over football and musical preferences drove everyone crazy, but, together, those two knew how to have a good time.

He briefly flashed back to his own wedding, and could see Johnny gracefully dancing with Callie and Vanessa, but, the minute some people started to recognize him, he had unobtrusively faded into the background, refusing to steal even a moment from the spotlight meant for him and Vanessa. And then, after the wedding and honeymoon, when everyone had left and he and Vanessa had started opening gifts, he had opened Johnny's card. To this day, he could picture the exact message: _"I had a wonderful time tonight and was delighted to have been able to make your special day. Please accept my gift on the conditions that you tell no one- not even Frank and my girl Callie- and that you never mention it again- seriously. Don't even send a thank you card. If you do, I have pictures from both bachelor parties. Remember that. J/k. ;) Love to you both. John._ " And he had given a check so large it paid for the entire wedding and honeymoon... and then some. Tears burned his eyes now as he thought of that.

Yes, John Gellers was a classy, kind, generous, and, Joe now knew, incredibly brave and selfless person. And it wasn't fair that he was gone. What a tremendous loss to the world.

"I swear to you, Johnny, I _will_ find your killer and make him pay," he whispered to the air. "Godspeed, my friend."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Several minutes later, the door opened, and Joe saw Pat, another officer, two FBI agents, and a weak looking Chief Collig come into the room. When he saw Collig, he stood at once.

"Is it inappropriate to give you a hug, Chief, given the circumstances, or shall we stick to business as usual- your general disapproval of me as an impulsive, ignore -all -the- rules and generally get in your way, "play detective" kid?" He suppressed a smile.

Collig smiled. "You're really still an idiot, Joe," he said with fake reproach in his voice, as he reached over to embrace Joe quickly.

"And you seem to be back to normal," Joe replied with a small twinkle in his eyes.

Collig rolled his eyes as he sat down and motioned for the others to do the same. Before he said anything else, he looked directly at Joe. "We're gonna get your dad back, Joe. I promise you that, son."

Joe nodded, unexpectedly emotional. "Thanks, Chief."

"I mean it," he said earnestly. "Your dad's one of my best friends and cases don't get more personal than this. Where's Frank?"

"I don't know," Joe replied, and proceeded to fill Collig in on everything, up to Johnny's death. From his reaction, Joe could tell he'd been briefed about Callie and Vanessa, but not Johnny.

"I'm sorry, man," Pat said quietly, and Joe gave him a small smile.

"This has been a hell of a ride," Collig said. "I'm truly sorry. I'm also more than a little pissed that my friend is missing, his family has been through hell, and I was almost killed."

"It's shocking," Joe agreed.

"Too soon, Joseph," Collig answered, and Joe stared at him blankly. When he got it, he let out a small laugh. "I wasn't even being a sarcastic ass for once, either," Joe replied. "I've missed you, Chief."

Collig gave a quick, affectionate smile at Joe. "I think it's time to get down to business," he said. "I've been briefed about several things by Agents McClean and Jessop from the FBI and my own officers. Let us fill you in on what we know."

Agent Jessop spoke first. "We have studied surveillance cameras from the city and the set of Criminal Hunters from the day of the abduction. We were able to ascertain that the truck headed out of the city in a path that we now know was headed for Bayport. We currently have an APB out on the truck that was used in the abduction, although we have reason to believe that the criminals are split at this point."

"What do you mean?" Joe asked.

"I'll explain soon," Collig answered. "We believe there are several people involved in the plot here. You know about Alan Cotnig. Based on Vanessa's description, we believe he was injured in the fire at the jail and, as a result, was permanently scarred. We also have the names of several other people based on the reports from the show and digging through our own records. We are all going to need you-and your brother- to help us piece this story together."

"So where do we start?" Joe asked, completely attentive.

"Way back- at the beginning," Collig answered. "Call your brother- it's time to figure this mess out and find your dad."

Joe nodded. He took out his phone and texted Frank. Looking around the room, Joe saw the determination in everyone's eyes and realized he was working with some of the greatest minds around. A sort of calm descended on him. He knew in his gut that a break was about to occur, and he couldn't wait. He would avenge Johnny; make sure Callie and Vanessa were forever protected. And he would find his father, no matter what.

Frank opened the door and stepped inside. He stared right at Joe. "She's awake. Callie's awake," he whispered incredulously.

Joe gasped; felt almost weak with relief. Without thinking, he crossed the room and hugged his brother tightly.

"She's okay?" he asked, just to make sure.

"For now," Frank replied. He held up his hand quickly in greeting to the room.

Joe slung an arm around Frank's shoulders and looked into the room full of people waiting to get started on solving this case.

"Let's do this," he said. "Let's get dad back."

And, together with his brother by his side, for the first time, he felt hope.


	19. Chapter 19

**Note:** _Thanks again for all of you who took the time to leave a review. SnowPrincess 88, Paulina Ann, Tin Dog, Red Hardy, Caranath, ulstergirl, EvergreenDreamweaver, max2013, hbndgirl, and Hero 76, your feedback is so very appreciated and inspires me to keep going as I continue to work on my next story and to edit this one. THANK YOU! :)_

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 19

Joe waited outside the room and stood next to his brother. The meeting was about to begin in a few minutes as everyone gathered their materials. Collig was sorting his notes and the police officers and FBI agents spoke quietly to each other. In the interim, Joe turned to Frank.

"What happened? What did Callie say? How is she feeling?" He couldn't get the questions out quickly enough.

Frank looked completely drained, but also incredibly relieved as he answered in a low voice. "I was only with her for a few minutes. The doctors rushed in, and…"

"What did they say?" Joe interrupted.

"Right now she's stable and she's regained consciousness. She's weak and exhausted, but...I don't know," Frank's voice faltered.

"What?" Joe asked again, eyes etched with concern.

When Frank answered, Joe noted that, despite Frank's glassy eyes, he was smiling. "I just have a feeling, Joe. I know she's going to be okay. She… she _has_ to be, you know?"

Joe smiled back and gently squeezed Frank's arm. "I _do_ know, and she will be."

"My in- laws are with her now. So is Vanessa." Frank added. Seeing Joe's surprised expression, Frank continued. "Cal… knows about Johnny. We didn't get to talk much, but it's almost like she knew. I think she hasn't even had time to process it, and I don't want her to- not now. I only want her to focus on getting her strength back." Frank's voice broke a bit. "When I told her- she just looked… stunned. But she held it in. I'm worried about her. But Vanessa knows, too- I told her, so you didn't have to. I think if Cal has Van- if they have each other- it'll… it'll be good. They both loved Johnny, you know?" His lip trembled a bit, and Joe felt his heart tear a bit more.

"I know. I think we all cared about him, and I know how you felt...you know… I mean…" Joe stuttered, completely suddenly incapable of expressing his feelings.

"Thanks," Frank replied softly. He met Joe's eyes and, at once, Joe sensed that somehow Frank was back in big brother mode; that he was putting his own fear and pain aside to reassure him. And Joe was comforted. "I may need your help in the next week or so. With Johnny; with Callie; and ... " he cut himself off, a little smile playing on his lips. "And maybe with your niece or nephew. I guess we'll see."

"Whatever you need- WHATEVER," Joe emphasized. "I'm here for you."

"I know," Frank replied quietly. "Thanks, Joe. You've been really incredible these past two weeks or so. I'm sorry I've been a mess."

"Frank," Joe cut in, "stop. You have nothing to apologize for. This whole thing has been complete hell. I know how you felt when Callie was missing. I was completely lost, too, when Van was gone."

Frank just nodded, and Joe saw how hard he was trying to maintain control. The difference now was that he was actually doing it. Joe went on. "I know what Callie means to you. I can't even imagine how worried you must have been since she was pregnant. I love her, too, you know."

Frank managed a small smile.

"And you've lost John. And you're exhausted. And somehow, you managed to save my wife's life, so I guess I owe you." He patted Frank's back.

Frank rolled his eyes. "Like I said, you'd be a pain in the ass to deal with if she didn't come back, so what choice did I have?" he teased gently. "But now we need to focus- and we need to get dad back. We can do this, Joe."

Joe nodded, emotional again. Damn, it was hard to control what he was feeling from one moment to the next. "I can't even think about what he's going through," he began in a voice unlike his own.

"Then don't," Frank said, firmly, and Joe stared at him. "He'll be okay. Focus on what you can control, not what you can't."

Joe let out a relieved sigh. Yes- Frank was back.

"Boys!" Collig called. "Are you ready?" One of the officers came to the door and ushered them in.

"We're ready," they said simultaneously, and then looked at each other. And they were.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"We need to lay out what we know, so we are all on the same page," Collig began. "And I guess the best place to start is at the beginning." He looked around the room and started his tale. "Twenty years ago, ads started appearing in the _Times,_ ads very similar to what we saw with the recent murders around New York state. At the time, the ads were taunting, and were specifically targeted to the new PI… namely, Fenton Hardy, who had made a name for himself in the NYPD as a detective. The ads indicated that people would be killed, but it was slightly different. The victims were Male, Female, Male, and they were killed in an odd order, by FIRST name and METHOD of death. For example, the first victim was Allen Carrta, and he was asphyxiated. Then, there was Zainab Beyprat, and her body was found with deep cuts made in zigzags. Then there was Xander Zickavansky. His body was found with xenotransplantation."

"What the hell is that?" Joe asked.

"It's when organic matter is transferred from a non-human into a human," Collig answered bluntly. "So he was found with his heart cut out and a pig's heart was in its place."

"That's disgusting," Joe said with a shudder.

"Because two of the victims were foreigners, we assumed some sort of xenophobia at first, especially because it was also fit that last part of the "X" pattern. But that turned out not to be the case."

"That's a strange pattern," Frank said, thoughtfully. "It seems to be about… about…" he paused, collecting his thoughts, "the spaces."

"What?" Pat Merkel asked, surprised.

"I see it," Joe said, nodding his head. "A sequence of three letters, with the space between missing. It's almost like reverse alphabetical order."

"Yes," Agent McClean cut in. "And it's highly unusual for a criminal to demonstrate such obsessiveness AND to vary method of killing. Usually, there is a preferred methodology: strangulation, stabbing, gun shot… whatever it is, it's extremely unusual to vary, in both method of death and gender of victims."

"Well, that's what Fenton figured out," Collig went on. "But it was a beast of a case. He finally came to the conclusion that you, Frank, just arrived at. That maybe there was more to it than alphabetical order. That maybe the secret was in the spaces. So he started thinking- what was missing? If he took the spaces in between, what he saw was... B-A-Y…."

Joe gasped. "He was targeting Bayport, ultimately, right?" he asked.

"I don't think he was actually targeting Bayport," Collig answered. "But he WAS targeting your dad, who lived in Bayport and who had set up his home offices here. He was seeing if your dad could crack the case before he got to him."

"And that's exactly what happened this time," Frank said, quietly.

"Yes," Collig agreed. "It is. Fenton and I worked the case. We used the pattern against the person, who we later found to be Cotnig, and we caught him. It was hard as hell to figure out every town that had the secret space as a "P", but your dad is excellent, and he had a lot of resources."

"But why did he target dad in the first place?" Frank asked.

"Good question," Collig answered. "In part, the man was obsessed with mysteries, as we came to find out. The idea of beating out a private eye appealed to him. As it turned out, your father had, as an NYPD detective, been involved in a pursuit, in which Cotnig's brother, Charles, was killed after fleeing the scene of a robbery. There you go- personal revenge and an obsessive personality. I think that's where it started."

"But- did he always work alone?" Joe asked. "It's the same issue we had with the latest set of murders. That type of violence and obsession needs a lot of planning."

"No," Collig answered. He had another brother named David and a half brother named Bill Daniels. Notice- Alan, Bill, Charles, David- alphabetical order. When we ultimately caught him, we found out that he had been working with his brother David on these crimes. They were an ugly, outcasted, very violent family. Both Alan and David were captured and sent to the state prison transfer facility, where there was a fire that tore through the building and killed 15 people and hurt countless others. It was a huge story back in the day."

"But Cotnig didn't die," Frank said evenly. "And I wonder who else didn't, either. And how that fire got started."

"Oh, the state concluded it was faulty wiring," Collig said, "but, in hindsight, why would it have been? The building was old but it was inspected often. And people didn't really care-you weren't really dealing with the upper echelon of society here. I think most people were glad they were dead. It didn't cause a stir of outrage that several murderers, rapists, arsonists, and the like were dead."

Frank's eyes flashed something so quickly that Joe almost missed it- fear? Anger? It was gone immediately. Frank quickly, though, raised his eyebrows."Arsonists?"

"Yep- that's what we are looking into now," Collig replied.

"How many bodies were recovered?" Joe asked.

"The remains of ten are accounted for," Collig replied.

"So that leaves five more unaccounted for- presumed dead- but not," Frank concluded.

"Correct," Collig added. "Cotnig was missing. As was his brother, David. So, too, was arsonist Jonas Ezekial, Dr. Christopher Tobias, who was convicted of killing patients in hospitals via overdose, and mafia strongman Remy Annunziata."

"And no one found it odd that five people disappeared?" Joe asked, incredulous.

"Like I said, no one really cared. That being said, it was absolutely shoddy police work, yes." Collig shook his head.

Frank was troubled. "So… wait. Let's assume that the arsonist set the facility on fire, working with the Cotnig brothers, right? As it so happens, one of the convicts was a doctor, which would explain why no one checked into any hospitals."

"Correct," Collig answered.

"So five people have worked together all of these years to get revenge against my father and you. Why?" Frank continued.

"We, strangely, were involved in the arrests and apprehension of at least half of the inmates in that particular facility," Collig replied. At Frank's shocked expression, Collig shrugged. "Including the five missing men. What can I say? Your father and I were very busy back in the day."

"So these five men- they're the ones who are still out there- the ones who killed Johnny- who almost killed you, and Van, and Callie- who have our dad now?" Joe asked

"Actually," Agent Jessop cut in, "there are four left. The body of Remy Annunziata was brought into the hospital with Callie Hardy and John Gellers. Presumably, Gellers shot him- we won't know the details until we can speak with Callie- and up until an hour ago, that wasn't a possibility."

Joe watched Frank flinch, but his brother remained quiet.

"So- four left?" Joe asked.

"Five- kind of," Jessop continued. "Cotnig's half brother- Bill Daniels- is in custody. He wasn't hard to apprehend."

"Why is that?" Joe asked.

Jessop looked right at him."Because he was the head writer on _Criminal Hunters_."

"What?!" Joe cried. "How is that even possible?!"

Jessop continued. "A lot of luck and a lot of planning. The Cotnigs pulled every string they could get to keep Daniels presumably on the up and up. When he pitched the idea for the show- as we discovered recently- close to four years ago- this was all in the works. We believe that, on the day of the abduction, Daniels was in touch with Jonas Ezekial, the arsonist, who obviously knew how to manipulate electric currents. He was able to make the grate live that Chief Collig stepped on. Unfortunately for him, Mr. Collig didn't die. Nonetheless, it left a pretty clear path to go after your father via his family first, and ultimately him. We also believe that Daniels was the leak to the press about the show and what got into the papers. To that unfortunate end, I should also add that the press is swarming the hospital right now, trying to report on Mr. Gellers. TMZ seems to have caught wind of his death. A half hour ago, a leak started. This is going to be very messy."

"I'll be damned if I let them get close to Johnny," Frank seethed.

"That won't happen," Collig said, sympathetically. "You have my word."

"So we're looking for four people," Joe recounted. "Where do we even start?"

"We're going to start immediately," Agent McClean went on. "Because we have an undercover agent on this."

"What?!" Frank and Joe said together, and even Collig turned to the agent.

"I hope there's a good explanation for what you're about to tell me," Collig replied, trying to be calm.

"Look at the ads first again," Agent Jessop stated. "The first one reads, 'seeker of truth/ follow no path/ all paths lead where/ truth is here'. You've already concluded that the ad there was meant to taunt Chief Collig and Fenton Hardy. The truth was right under our noses- and the poet's initials were EC. Then, the second ad read, 'Noises that usually woke me from rest afraid of monsters/ kept my father awake that night, too,/ and I lay in the quiet noticing him listen, learning/ that he might not be able always to protect us.' That was a part of a poem, specifically meant for Fenton Hardy- again. The poet's initials were FH. And it came true. He could not protect his children; his family. We needed to examine these leads."

"Where are you going with this?" Collig asked.

"We were involved with this case a long time ago," Agent Jessop went on. "Unbeknownst to you all, because the fire was a federal crime, the FBI never stopped investigating it. We had no idea what happened, but we sent in several agents to investigate. One of our agents became aware of David Cotnig's existence. Through a very long and complicated process, he was able to infiltrate the survivor's posse by convincing them that Fenton Hardy and you, Chief Collig, had been responsible for his father's death, and hence he had motivation for revenge as well. Both Cotnig brothers loved the idea of a rogue cop- who else could help with the plot? He has been shadowing David, not Alan, Cotnig, in the past few months. Thus, he had no idea of the whereabouts of Callie or Vanessa or John. That's why we know there's been a split. Alan Cotnig was with Tobias and Annunziata. David Cotnig was with Ezekial. We do not know where he is right now, but we are trying to locate him."

"What? Who is it?" Joe asked.

Agent Jessop looked right at him. "Special Agent Clara. He was the one who went with Agent Smith and your father to locate Vanessa's cellphone. Agent Smith had no idea about the undercover operation."

"So- so dad's with an FBI agent?" Joe asked, incredulous.

"Yes," Jessop answered. "On a very dangerous, highly volatile mission. Your dad does not know that Agent Clara is working with us- it was a top secret classification. But he does have some protection, though we have to get to them quickly."

"Let's get going," Collig said. "If we find Clara, we find Fenton."

Slowly, the room emptied.

Frank hung back, indicating for Joe to do the same. "See, Joe?" he asked. "This case is insane, but now- now we have some hope. Let's tie up some loose ends, okay, while they work? I have to go deal with Johnny… and that whole situation now."

Joe nodded. "Frank?"

Frank turned back. "What's up?"

"We need to find out what happened with Annunziata. Can I- would you care if I talked to Callie? I promise to go easy. I'll leave it alone immediately if I see she can't handle it. But I think she might have some valuable information. And- well, it's DAD."

Frank looked torn. It took an agonizing two full minutes before he answered, during which time Joe lost track of the number of emotions that passed over his face.

Finally, he spoke, meeting Joe's eyes. "Take care of her," he said at last in a tight voice, and turned to walk out the door.

"I will," Joe mouthed into the air.

Maybe, at last, they would get a break… and their father back.


	20. Chapter 20

**Note:** _Thank you so much to those of you who have left reviews since the last chapter: SnowPrincess88 (chapter 15), Evergreendreamweaver, hbndgirl, Hero 76, max 2013, ulstergirl, and Paulina Ann- your feedback is very much appreciated! It seems as if fewer people read the last chapter than the norm, so, if you didn't read and would like to, the last chapter explains a lot about the actual mystery and connects the show to Cotnig. Thanks, as always, for reading, following, and especially reviewing. Hope you enjoy!_

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 20

Joe finished texting Vanessa and arrived at Callie's room less than ten minutes after. Before he could enter, Vanessa stepped outside, tears in her eyes, and walked directly into Joe.

Immediately, he reached out for her and held onto her tightly. "You okay, baby?" he murmured to her, gently stroking her hair.

Vanessa nodded into his shoulder and then stepped back, reaching for his hand. She wiped tears away with the back of her other hand. "I can't believe Johnny's gone," she cried in a low voice.

"I know," he answered, squeezing her hand. "It's horrible. How's Callie doing?" he asked.

Vanessa laced her fingers through his. "She's very quiet. Resting a lot. I think she's still trying to come to terms with everything. She keeps looking for Frank."

"He'll be here soon," Joe assured her. "Think she's up to me talking to her for a few minutes?"

Vanessa nodded. "I think so. I didn't even tell her. I told her parents, and they said they'd be back in a half hour so you could have some time. They're concerned Callie isn't ready for any questions," she cautioned.

Joe sighed before answering. "I know. So is Frank. Maybe they're right. I certainly don't want to push her. I just want to see what she knows. We just landed a huge break in the case."

"Really?" Vanessa asked, surprised."That's great, babe. Do you think you'll find your dad soon?"

Joe slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. "Say a prayer, Van. We're going to try. In fact, we'll be leaving here fairly soon. I promise I'll be in touch as often as I can be… as long as you promise to rest and not worry. Keep Callie company." He touched her cheek. "I love you so much, Van. This nightmare has to end soon." He leaned in to kiss her slowly. "Come back in maybe 30 or 40 minutes, okay?"

"Okay," Vanessa agreed at last. "When I get back, you can leave." She gave him a quick kiss and headed to the cafeteria for a small lunch.

Joe headed into Callie's room and sucked in his breath. He hadn't even seen her since she'd been brought in, and he was reminded at once of all the trauma she'd been through. He'd been so wrapped up in his own fears over Vanessa, so out of control with his feelings dealing with Frank, so distracted by Johnny's place in all of this, so worried about his father, that he'd been unable to see her. He realized, as he had for the millionth time in his life, that he had no plan, but that he needed to not only talk to Callie, but also to see with his own eyes that she was okay. He walked over to the bed and was surprised when Callie opened her eyes at once. Despite the countless IVs and needles attached to her one arm, and the monitors attached to her chest and stomach, she looked better than he thought she would. "Hey," he said with a smile as he stood awkwardly by her bed.

"Hi," she said quietly, trying to smile, but not quite managing. "Sorry- I thought you were Frank."

He looked down at her and spoke. "Nah. You lucked out with the good looking brother," he teased.

Callie looked up at him, and he saw in her dark eyes uncertainty, fear, and pain… but a lot of strength. At once, he sighed. This was awkward, and he hated awkwardness. "Can you scoot over?" he asked her, and she looked at him questioningly. "Come on. I need to give you a hug."

Callie nodded and her eyes filled with tears. She moved over very slowly, and Joe almost stopped her when he saw the grimace on her face. When she had moved just enough, Joe sat next to her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. He kissed her forehead. "I'm glad you're okay, sis," he whispered to her.

Callie rested her head against his shoulder. "Thanks," she managed. "I needed that."

"I'm always good for a hug," he reminded her, backing off slightly but keeping one arm wrapped firmly around her shoulders. "How are you feeling?"

Callie looked up at him, and Joe felt an overwhelming need to protect her. She looked so vulnerable. He squeezed her shoulders.

"They have me hooked up to all these machines. I can't move too well," she said at last.

"Yeah, they're a pain," he said."But if they're saving your life, then okay, right?"

She nodded weakly.

"You have to work on keeping the little guy in there for a few more weeks," he replied.

"Or girl," she answered automatically.

"Little Joe," they said at the same time, and finally Callie laughed. Within seconds, though, it turned to tears as she covered her mouth to hide her quivering lips. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be," he answered, comfortingly.

"I can't believe what happened," she went on in a quivering voice. "John…"

"I know," he assured her, and kissed her head. "I'm sorry, Cal. I know how much you loved him. He was your #3 guy, right?"

Callie let out a small chuckle despite herself. "Right."

"Frank is taking care of the… arrangements," he told her honestly, and she nodded slowly, numbly.

"Thanks for telling me," she breathed in a low voice. She met his eyes. "I think people are afraid I'm going to break or something. I see the doctors in and out and they don't say much; cops outside the room, but they don't come in. Vanessa and my parents and your mom won't tell me what's going on. I only saw Frank for a few minutes. And all of this within the three hours I've actually been half conscious. Will you tell me - for real- what's going on?"

Joe hesitated.

"Please, Joe," she implored him, her voice shaking. "All I know is that I was taken… what happened…" She was trembling a bit, and Joe rubbed her shoulder in comfort. "Why?"

He realized at once that she was right. Callie would have no idea about the case- all she knew was the hell she had gone through; the fact that her best friend was dead. He didn't want to scare her or cause her more heartache, but she deserved the truth. "Think you can focus for 15 or 20 minutes?"

"Yeah. Please," she begged.

Taking in a deep breath, he told her everything from his point of view, even when it got difficult and complicated. He stopped only when he realized he was going too quickly for Callie to concentrate, or when he sensed that she needed comfort, and hugged her a little tighter. Finally, he ended with why he was there now.

"God," she whispered. "That's … that's crazy. Your dad is missing? Oh, Joe. I had no idea."

Joe looked at her affectionately. Despite the horror she had been through and the pain that he saw she was still very much in, she was being incredibly strong. "We'll get him back," he added, and looked up when he saw Vanessa walk into the room. She hesitated, but Joe waved at her. "Come in, babe," he told her, and she did, sitting on the chair opposite Callie and across from Joe. "I just told Callie what's been happening."

When Vanessa raised her brows at him, Callie responded, "No, Van. I needed to know. Joe did me a favor."

Joe smiled at her. "Callie was just going to fill me in on what I don't know."

"Are you sure she's up for that?" Vanessa asked cautiously. Callie was pale and exhausted, and, though Vanessa knew Joe was doing what he thought was best, she wondered if this _was_ too much. Callie hadn't been conscious long, and she had been under unbearable stress.

"Yes, 'she' is," Callie answered weakly. But even Joe saw the conversation was taking its toll, and his promise to his brother to take care of her echoed in his head.

"We can wait, Cal," he answered reassuringly. "It probably wouldn't help, and…"

"Stop," she interrupted. "Let me just get it out."

Vanessa met Joe's eyes, but nodded slowly. "Okay," she encouraged.

Callie spoke slowly and evenly, filling them in on what had happened after Vanessa had left the cabin. Joe found himself inadvertently holding her closer when he heard about what Cotnig had done to her and Johnny- how she had been kicked and Johnny punched and beaten; how hungry and thirsty and freezing they had been, having only one coat, which Johnny had insisted she wear; how Johnny had put aside his own pain to protect her, and how she had been so weak and bleeding and couldn't walk or think straight. At that point, she had to stop her story, pausing to collect herself, as if some memory was too unbearable to recall. Eventually, she told them how Cotnig had switched back and forth between their real names and the show names; how he had mentioned Fenton repeatedly, and they didn't know why. She told them how they'd been always so close to death, but somehow had survived. Finally, she ended with the man holding a gun on them. Then she suddenly stopped and got very quiet again.

Vanessa was brushing back tears and Joe was fighting fury. Why? Why had this happened- Johnny had died and Callie was still in very bad shape… for what?' "I'm so sorry, Cal," he managed, squeezing her shoulder. "You can stop there."

Callie looked back up, and Joe noticed how absolutely drained she looked, as if she couldn't keep her eyes open. "No," she finally added in a faint voice. She lowered her eyes again and continued. "The guy raised the gun and he went to fire. Johnny- he jumped in front of me. I remember just- screaming." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "When he went down, the guy looked shocked that he hadn't hit me. So he got distracted, but John… somehow got up and tackled him. Then there was a squabble and - I just know the gun went off."

Vanessa was crying openly now. "Oh, Cal," she managed.

"That's why when Frank told me that Johnny… didn't make it, I… I wasn't surprised." She was sobbing quietly now, and Joe felt terrible. "I thought we were both dying anyway out there. He- told me he thought he was dying, and… and... that it wasn't my fault. I just remember a camera flash or something -it was so horrible. There was blood all over- mine AND Johnny's and.. that guy's... he just tried to protect me, even then … and that's all I remember." By now, Callie was shaking, the trauma and realization that Johnny really was gone overwhelming her. "Joe- can... Frank come? Please?" She needed him now, more than ever.

Her voice had broken, her face's pallor had faded significantly, and she started shivering harder as the nightmare resurfaced again and the reality of her loss continued to hit her ceaselessly. How she could go on without Johnny was incomprehensible- she really loved him so much. God, he'd saved her- at least twice in her life, he'd been her hero. She'd lived once because of him; and now-again. She was taken back for a minute to...no. She had to stop. She really would die if she let her mind wander.

Despite what he had told her about it not being her fault, she knew it was. All she could envision was Johnny jumping to protect her; and, once he did, and had started bleeding badly and gasping for air, he had still held her, comforting HER, as they both prepared to die. She could still practically feel his arms around her, and it was unbearable. Other than Frank, he was the only man who had ever allowed her to feel totally safe and protected. Again, she was taken back there... "no," she whispered to herself. "Please."

And now he was gone- and it was her fault.

Joe sensed immediately that something was very wrong and instantly regretted having pushed her too far. He held her for a long minute. "Of course," he managed at last, voice tight. "Thanks, sis. You were amazing. Try to rest now. I'll get Frank." He kissed her cheek and slid off the bed, texting his brother immediately.

Five minutes later, Frank arrived. Joe waved him into the room and left with Vanessa.

Joe sat and stared straight ahead, arm around Vanessa, as he dealt with the impact of Callie's words. It broke his heart to have heard that story, but she had given him some very valuable information that he needed to think about. Still, the thought that his dear friend, his sister in a real sense, had been suffered so much, enraged him. He thought his fury couldn't have been worse than what he felt when he had heard Vanessa's story, but it had only grown worse with his father's absence; with Callie's gut wrenching tale. No one- no one- hurt his family. He was ready to get revenge, and he would stop at nothing.

In the meantime, Frank saw the look on Callie's now white face and wondered what the hell had happened. What had Joe told her?!

"Cal?" he asked, and slid into the bed, exactly where Joe had just been. Instinctively, he took her in his arms, scared when he felt her trembling. "It's okay, baby. I'm here. Shhh," he whispered. "You're safe. YOU ARE SAFE," he repeated, knowing she needed to hear those words. She felt so fragile, and he tried not to panic when he heard her moan softly in pain.

"I'm so sorry, baby," he told her, fighting his emotions. "I should never have sent Joe in."

"No," she whispered, cuddling close, her one free hand on her stomach by instinct. "Joe was fine. He's always honest. He's good to me," she mumbled, looking as if she would pass out at any moment. She didn't want to talk; could barely do so anyway. Joe really hadn't done anything wrong. She just felt hollow and desperately needed Frank. Just his presence, his arms around her, helped to fight the sickness she felt when she thought of what had happened- now and then. What if she fell asleep and was back there again? She was so scared.

"Let me get the doctor," he told her, alarmed, and went to move, but she then clung to him.

"No," she whimpered, and tried to move even closer to him, desperate to have him near despite her limited mobility. Usually, she was independent and strong. But right now she felt so depleted. She couldn't articulate her guilt and suffering over Johnny. She couldn't tell him accurately how scared she had been and the shame she felt over that. She was still scared. Her body ached horribly; still, even now, she felt the occasional ripping pain in her abdomen, her back spasming so badly she wanted to cry out; beg for relief. She was worried for her child and had no idea her prognosis or the baby's- no one had told her. But God- she couldn't even ask, exhausted beyond comprehension. All she could do was rely on the fact that Frank had always known her so well; would know what she needed. "Frank," she barely whispered. "Find your dad. But first, can you just hold me? Please. I need you." She buried her face in his chest. "Help," she managed, voice fading out quickly as her eyes closed.

Frank fought tears. This was not like his Callie at all. But he knew why- he wished to God he didn't, but he did. And he knew this moment was about so much more than it seemed. He couldn't even imagine the hell she had been through. Again. Still, he knew what do, as he tightened his hold and cradled her against him, rubbing her back gently and kissing her head softly. He was so anxious to hold her as well, not trusting that she was really okay until her could touch her. His heart ached for her. Slowly, he felt her stop trembling. She was sleeping within minutes. Her heart and blood pressure monitor, though, and the baby's, dipped unsteadily and swung wildly for several agonizing minutes before evening out again, so much so that a nurse entered the room and watched closely as well before being satisfied that Callie was stabilized and leaving.

He felt his heart pounding. She couldn't take this stress, as weak as she was. If she didn't take care of herself- if he lost her, and the baby- he didn't know if he could live. Johnny had seemed to be getting stronger, and then he had taken a sudden and rapid turn for the worse. What if-what if that happened to Callie? He felt a chill run through his body as he tried to fight his own slight shaking.

Joe walked in alone a few minutes later, something he would never ordinarily do. Frank and Callie were always very private with their relationship, and he knew he was interrupting a personal moment. Frank was holding Callie like he was afraid she was disappear if he let go.

Frank looked up, surprised but numbed, when Joe walked in. "She's really brave, Frank," he told his brother, motioning to Callie. "I'm sorry to interrupt," he went on softly, heartbroken at the look on Frank's face. "But we need to talk."

Frank just nodded as Joe related the story to him. Every bit of rage, pain, fear, and horror that he knew he, himself, had felt, he watched mirrored on his brother's face. "The flashing light, bro, that Cal described- that was important. That means that Annunziata wasn't alone. It was either Cotnig or Tobias with him. Callie would have recognized Cotnig, which means that now we have three divisions: Cotnig is by himself, Tobias is by himself, and David Cotnig is with Jonas. It's possible they were together at some points. Didn't Johnny tell you he'd been stabbed by someone who knew where to get him- to hurt him but keep him alive? A doctor would have known that. Maybe Tobias was there, then. In any case, one of those three groups is with Clara. Which one is he with? Because that is what we will run into when we find dad."

Before Frank could answer, his cell phone started buzzing. So did Joe's. Unwilling to release Callie yet, Frank motioned for Joe to get his phone.

"Hello?" he answered as he stepped into the hall.

Five minutes later, he returned, a determined look on his face. He met Frank's questioning gaze.

"They got a trace on Clara's phone- about two hours east of Bayport. We need to go- now."

Frank gently moved back from Callie, kissing her lips lightly. He knew her parents and Vanessa would be in momentarily.

"Let's go," he said gruffly to Joe. "Let's get dad. This is going to end here."

Joe, following his brother out of the room, nodded behind him. One way or another, Frank would be right. If he had anything to do with it, it sure as hell would end here.


	21. Chapter 21

**Note** : _I cannot thank everyone enough for your reviews. Every night, I continue to write and seeing your thoughts and feedback is very inspiring. Thank you to SnowPrincess88, Guest (is that you, Tin Dog?), Red Hardy, East Blue, max2013, Barb, EvergreenDreamweaver, Paulina Ann, ulstergirl, Hero76, and hbndgirl for your support. I apologize if I missed anyone. I always look forward to what you and others have to say. Thanks, and enjoy!_

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 21

Agent Clara's cellphone signal had been traced to a town two hours east of Bayport. Normally, Joe would have enjoyed speeding along in a police cruiser, but today was different. He knew that coming from different directions, there would be countless cars- ambulances, FBI agents, undercover cops, and state police- all rushing to meet and set up a perimeter around the location of the signal. Joe looked at his watch- still a half hour to go.

He took out his phone and sent his mom and Vanessa a text to tell them what was going on and where they were. He had promised Vanessa that he would keep in touch as often as possible, and it was a promise that he fully intended to keep. He hit the button to check the news of the day and saw the top headline: "Criminal Hunters Star Jonathan Gellers dead at 28." Joe cursed under his breath and turned off the phone.

He glanced at his brother, who he was sitting with him the back seat. Frank had been quiet and withdrawn the whole trip, and Joe knew he was worried sick about Callie in addition to dealing with Johnny's arrangements and trying to concentrate on finding their father.

"Frank? How're you doing?" he asked, reaching over to touch his brother's arm.

Frank turned to him. "Sorry, Joe. I was just thinking." Frank's voice was calm, but he looked...defeated.

Joe gave him a reassuring smile. "Everything's going to be okay, Frank."

"Shouldn't I be telling you that?" Frank responded quietly with the smallest of smiles. "That's my job as your older brother."

Joe didn't tease him back. "Let's get these bastards. Then, it'll be okay."

Frank rubbed his eyes and nodded.

"Frank?" Joe asked again, concerned.

"Do you ever wonder if this is all worth it?" Frank asked him. Joe noticed him fiddling with his wedding ring. "I mean, for every one guy we put away, there are five more out there."

Joe listened. Frank wasn't normally so expressive with his innermost musings. "One away is better than one on the street, right? It'll be okay, Frank, because…"

"Because _why_ , Joe?" Frank asked in a tight voice. "WILL it be okay? On this case alone, our father has been missing for almost a week. Mom's barely holding it together. Chief Collig almost died. Tony, Biff, and Chet are worried because these maniacs know who they are. Vanessa almost died. Callie almost died. My child and my wife are still barely holding on, and one of my best friends is dead. So even when all this is done and over with, I still don't think "okay" covers it." His voice held a bitterness that Joe hadn't heard before, and he felt off center again as he faced forward, not having an answer for his brother.

A full five minutes passed before Frank spoke again. "I'm sorry, Joe," he said remorsefully with a heavy sigh, and reached out, squeezing Joe's shoulder. "I know you've been through the same thing as I have. I was being selfish. I'm just kind of overwhelmed right now. I didn't mean to lash out at you."

Finally Joe met Frank's eyes. "You're not wrong, you know, Frank," he said at last. "But I have to believe that we're doing something for a bigger cause than us, and that yes- even if we only got one more criminal off the streets, then we did something good. I can't question that- and I'm surprised you would, too."

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I'm not _really_ questioning it. I just never wanted my personal choices to affect my family, you know?" Frank's voice was quiet, but his demeanor had changed somewhat. He was getting more focused. Joe watched Frank's expression change as he continued. "Of course you know. You knew before I did. You lost Iola." He leaned his head back. "Boy, I've been a pretty awful brother through this, huh?"

Joe smiled. "No you haven't. You've been human. You're living a nightmare. I'm just used to you being pretty perfect; it's disconcerting when you're like a normal person."

"Uh... thanks?" Frank questioned, returning the smile.

"Guys, we're here," Pat called from the front seat as he slowed the car down.

"Thanks," Joe replied, feeling determined. He was going to go with Pat and FBI agent Gold; Frank would be going with FBI agent Jessops.

Frank turned to Joe as he took out his registered gun and made sure it was loaded. "Let's do this, bro. I've got your back, always. Be careful."

"You, too," Joe said as they both exited the car and started to plan their route.

With a final wave at each other, they separated. It was time to get their dad.

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Fenton moaned slightly as he struggled against the ropes now holding his hands together. He was hungry and thirsty, though somehow he always managed to have just enough to get by. The worst part of all of this was the incessant waiting. It was worse than the occasional beating; worse than the threats. What were they waiting for?

Every day he was told how his family was systematically being destroyed. He was shown stories in the paper of Ezra's accident and told of his death. He was told that they had Laura, and all the things they were doing to her, and he felt sick and horrified, though he tried not to show it. It could all be a lie; he knew that. But it was the grains of truth that he knew… he had heard of Ezra's accident vaguely somewhere, had seen the picture of Callie and John Gellers that made bile come up whenever he saw the image- that made him question everything. That picture could have been altered, but dear God- what if it wasn't? Had Callie died? It was an unspeakable horror that called into question everything else.

Just yesterday, he had heard the name Joe, and it reminded him of his own son, about whom he was extremely worried. But then he had started listening, piecing together every detail he could think of, all based on the one name he did have; Alan Cotnig. And then it had started to make sense. It wasn't Joe; it was _Jonas_. And that was all he had needed to figure out that somehow not only had Alan Cotnig not died in that fire all those years ago, but also neither had David, his brother, the man with the raspy voice who loved to show him the news of his family's demise. And the only Jonas he knew, which had been buried in the recesses of his memory, was Jonas Ezekiel, arsonist. That had given him a very bad feeling as he realized definitively that he was in some sort of firehouse, and that simply couldn't be a coincidence.

How Special Agent Clara fit into this was beyond him. Was he related to one of the men in the fire? Something was OFF about him, though, and Fenton knew it. Yes, he hit him- but never as hard as he could have. He was only violent when David and Jonas were around. And he looked almost regretful when he had to act out. All of that info, plus Clara's simple "trust me" several days ago, made him start to question things.

Before he could contemplate further, Jonas Ezekiel came bursting into the room, followed by David Cotnig and Clara. "The feds are here," Cotnig said, frazzled.

"What?" Fenton asked, incredulous.

"Listen, Hardy," Cotnig sneered, getting right into his face. "I don't know how they found us, but they're sure as hell going to find you quite different than how they left you. We're getting out of here; you're not. Just know that we've won. Your precious family is destroyed, but we're not. As long as you're dead, we win. We're survivors."

Fenton noticed Ezekiel scrambling around the room as Cotnig spoke, gathering materials. And spreading some, Fenton noticed at once. Then, he smelled it, and his eyes grew wide.

"You see it?" Cotnig asked. "I thought you might like to suffer like my brother did," he rasped. "A fire is a horrible way to die. See, first you inhale thick smoke, and panic as you can't breathe. Before you pass out, you'll feel the flames creeping up on you, the heat ready to devour you. And when it does?" He cackled maniacally. "You'll feel the flesh rip from your skin, smell yourself burn. You'll luck out - if you die." He poked Fenton right in his chest, hard. "Goodbye, Hardy. A...B…C... you later…"

He ran from the room, followed by Clara. The gasoline surrounded the perimeter of the room, and, before Ezekiel left, he turned.

The single motion of a dropping match.

He struggled against his ropes to no avail. Before Fenton could even process the scene, the irony of being burned to death in a firehouse, the room burst into flames.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Special Agent Clara looked around in panic. This wasn't the way the mission was supposed to end. One more day- _just one more day-_ and he would have had everyone in position. His phone. It must have been his damned phone that let the signal off early.

He looked in front of him, coughing against the smoke in the distance. Jonas Ezekiel lay screaming on the ground in front of him, having been shot by Clara and subsequently handcuffed. The look of utter shock in his eyes as Clara identified himself almost made it worth it- almost. But Fenton Hardy, the poor man, was trapped inside a burning building, and he didn't know if he could get there on time.

Flicking the emergency signal on his phone, he turned around. He had to try to save him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

David Cotnig couldn't believe his eyes. He'd doubled back to make sure that the building was secured and witnessed Clara shoot Ezekiel. What the hell?! He was a double agent?! How had he been fooled all this time? He felt rage. He raised his own gun and pointed it at Clara, but the damned fool had headed back towards the firehouse. He sneered, deciding he may as well hang back and watch it all play out quickly before he ran.

He reached into his pocket and contacted, via encrypted radio, his brother Alan and Tobias. Annunziata, the fool, had gotten himself killed a few days ago. At least he had managed to get that picture, and to kill Gellers and seriously hurt Fenton Hardy's daughter-in-law.

So now it was him, Alan, and Tobias. The three blind mice. At least they were safe for now. A mirthless grin came to his face. Yes, safe. And at least one was in proximity to finish the job. If he was going to go out, he could try to protect his brother until Alan could get to his backup location. Plus, Fenton Hardy would be dead. Gellers was dead already. Frank Hardy's wife was dying; she would be easy enough to finish. Joe Hardy's wife and Laura Hardy would be more difficult, but not impossible, especially with the plan. If only he could get to the plan, the mission will have been accomplished.

As he went to retreat to higher ground, he heard a voice that made his skin crawl. Was that… was that Fenton Hardy's son? He looked at the young man in the distance, recognized the pictures he'd seen. He saw the building start to really fill with flames, but Hardy had stopped, seeming to be thinking of the quickest route to the building. Maybe it would be easier than he thought…

He raised his gun.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Joe nodded at Agent Gold as Pat started running. "There- that way- I'll go east; it's the quickest way." He radioed his location to the state police officers, and took off.

Joe stared in horror at the building in the distance. It was so far away. His dad was in there-he sensed it.

"Stay here, son," Gold said. "We're on it."

"Like hell I will," Joe argued, getting ready to leave.

Before Gold could respond, Joe heard a loud crack in the distance, and felt a burning pain in his lower leg. He couldn't even process what had happened before he felt another shot rip through his thigh from behind. He looked down in shock as blood burst all over him. A third BOOM and he felt a pain so bad he couldn't breathe as a bullet ripped through his side.

He felt Agent Gold throw himself on top of him, but the world was moving in slow motion.

First red, then white, then finally black swam before his eyes.

His last conscious thought was to get to his father. He tried to move, but screamed in pain. The sound of his own agonizing cry was the last thing he heard.


	22. Chapter 22

**Note** : _There was some sort of bug going on this week on this site. I am pretty sure people did not receive notifications about the last chapter being posted or notification of updates. I, myself, missed updates on some great stories. So, if you missed it, please check out the last chapter before you read this one. Thanks for everyone reading, following the story, and making comments. Your feedback is very kind and much appreciated. Thus, special thanks to Erin Jordan, Red Hardy, Tin Dog, hlahabibty, Paulina Ann, ulstergirl, hbndgirl, Evergreen Dreamweaver, max 2013, SnowPrincess88, and Hero 76 for your feedback- it meant a lot! Only five chapters left after this one._

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 22

Frank ran as fast as he could, heart pounding as he sped in the direction of the fire. All around him, he could see and hear officials shouting orders; it was a sort of organized chaos. Apparently, Agent Clara's signal had been activated and, almost minutes later, smoke had started to appear in the distance.

Somehow, he had become separated from the fellow officers and agents responding to the scene, but he didn't care. He knew he had to reach his father, who HAD to be in that building. Frank swore under his breath as branches cut against his face; as he tripped and almost fell more times than he could count. It was cold and dreary and, though the blizzard had thankfully held off, a light snow had started falling. Still, he wasn't cold- in fact, sweat was pouring from from his forehead as he ran for his life, acutely aware of the profundity of the moment.

"Damnit," he uttered as he approached the building. Where was everyone? How was he going to get in? The building was burning quickly, plus it was big- he would only have a limited time to get in, and, if he entered via the wrong area, it would literally be a matter of life and death.

Before he could think about it, a window imploded nearby, causing him to jump. Knowing his time was limited, he started calling out. "Dad!" he screamed. "Dad! Are you in there?!"

Nothing.

He stared at the building and saw a half-open door. Frank closed his eyes for a brief moment. This was it- there would be no turning back. This door could determine everything, and he could lose his own life and his father's if he got it wrong. Then again, if he _didn't_ go now, then he could pretty much guarantee his father's death. That thought did it- there _was_ no choice; not really.

He opened his eyes, ran as fast as he could, and burst through the door, adrenaline coursing through his blood. Immediately, he began coughing and his eyes started to burn, already beginning to tear over. Forget calling for his father; it was hard enough to breathe, let alone talk.

Frank dropped his coat and lifted the bottom of his shirt to his mouth, struggling for breath.

 _Where do I go? I can barely see!_ he cried out mentally. In the distance, he saw flames and, fighting every bit of logic and common sense he had, he headed in that direction.

The smoke was so overwhelming and, before he knew it, he was gasping for breath. The flames were getting closer, and he tried to fight back the panic as he realized that, very soon, he would be trapped. It was getting hot as hell and scary. _Dad- where ARE you?!_ A sudden, horrifying thought crossed his mind- what if his father wasn't here at all? What if it was a trap?

At once, he started gasping for air, sweat pouring down his face, mixing in with the tears from his burning eyes. His visibility was almost zero and he couldn't think.

If he didn't turn to leave, he would die- that was a certainty. If he did leave, and his dad was inside, he would never forgive himself. A crazy vision appeared to him at once. Iola. Flames and unbearable heat. Jumping on his brother, trying to hold him down, desperately fighting Joe to save him from the death he would certainly meet if he dove into the flames. God, he was stuck in time, complete deja vu.

"I'm sorry, Dad," he mentally agonized as he saw the building edge start to collapse. "Forgive me."

Lungs on fire, he took one last glance off to the corner-

And saw his father, inert, on the floor.

Frank struggled with every bit of strength he had left as he fell to the floor, gasping for breath, and crawled to him. He saw at once that his father's arms were tied behind him, and that he was barely breathing. Frank struggled to his feet and bent down, wrapping his arms around his father from behind in an attempt to drag him towards the exit. But at once, the sobering reality that he had no idea where the exit was hit him. He could barely breathe, gasping now as it was, and he was becoming disoriented, slowly beginning to realize that he simply wouldn't have the strength or the time to get his father to safety. He sure as hell wouldn't leave him.

The flames edged closer as the room began to spin. He mentally bid goodbyes and apologies to Callie, Joe, his mother. There was no way out of this. His knees began to weaken as he struggled with what to do, how much longer he could literally survive. He felt his eyes start to roll.

"Can you help me grab him?" a voice choked out.

Frank forced himself back to consciousness. A man had appeared out of nowhere, and he heard his voice, but couldn't seem to process what was being said to him. Within a moment, though, something in him snapped as he saw the man motioning at his father, and, all at once, the numbness that had been threatening to engulf him gave way to an overwhelming cacophony of sounds and hypersensitivity to feeling and vision as he was hurled into the present.

He nodded.

Somehow, as the room burst into flame, he, along with the man, half-carried, half-dragged his father across the wide expanse of room. Before he knew it, he was exiting the building and felt someone grab him from behind and help to get him to safety.

And then, everything went black.

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Joe groggily opened his eyes as he heard commotion around him and realized that he was in an ambulance. He tried to move, but moaned in agony with the effort. He was half conscious, but almost wished for the blackness again. What the hell had happened?

"Settle down, son," he vaguely heard someone say. "The less you move, the better. We're on the way to the hospital."

Joe fought the weakness, the smell of blood. He felt sick and knew he was shaking. He tried to concentrate. "What…" he began, but the effort was almost too much.

The EMTs kept working on him. He wanted answers, but couldn't phrase the questions. The shooting pain, the dizziness…

"Help," he managed.

"I got you, man," he heard, and then saw Pat come into view, felt him squeeze his hand.

Joe could barely focus, though he wanted to so badly. Pat kept talking.

"You were shot, Joe. You're hurt. We'll contact Vanessa and your family at Bayport General Hospital and tell them what's going on. We need them to stay put for right now, but I won't leave you."

Joe tried to even his breathing and fight the darkness. "Okay," he mouthed.

"Don't die, brother," Pat said calmly. "You've made it so far. We got him."

Joe managed to open his eyes a bit more. "Who?" he asked weakly.

"David Cotnig," Pat replied, still holding his hand. "The bastard shot you. Got Gold, too. He's okay."

Joe gasped, then cried out in pain. "Fr-"

"Frank's in a separate ambulance, also on the way to the hospital. He got smoke inhalation real bad. We have your dad, too. I think he's going to be okay. Just hang in there, buddy. Don't quit now. Vanessa would kick my ass, man, if I let you die."

Joe managed to smile. "They're okay?" he whispered.

"Yeah- as long as you'll be okay. So don't freaking die." Pat released his hand and squeezed his forearm.

Joe managed the smallest of thumbs up, and then allowed himself, finally, to succumb to the exhaustion and the temporary release from pain.

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Hours and hours later, Frank sat in the waiting area of the hospital. He felt like hell: his chest hurt, he had a massive headache, and his body was way beyond spent. But Joe had come out of surgery okay and was resting in his room, and Frank had to see him. He was also still waiting to see his father.

"You okay?" Agent Clara asked, sitting down next to him.

"I'm sick of hospitals," Frank responded simply.

Clara chuckled softly. "I'll bet you are. You're a brave kid."

Frank gave a small smile. "You're not that much older," he said in a raspy voice, his throat still hurting.

Clara stretched. "I have a few years on you yet," he answered, his own voice sounding hoarse. Earlier, he had filled Frank in on the almost week that he had spent with Fenton, explaining in depth the necessity for secrecy, what he had found out about Cotnig and the gang, and apologizing for his behavior towards Fenton, acted simply out of necessity. He had concluded with a statement very similar to what he had just told Frank-how very brave his father was.

"You're the one who saved both of our lives," Frank croaked.

"I couldn't have done it without you," Clara said. "The stars aligned for that timing. Do you know the whole section of the building we were in came down less than five minutes after we got out?"

Frank shuddered. "You guys were all great. Thank you so much for everything."

Agent Clara sighed before speaking. "I wish I could tell you it's over, Frank. It's not. We have Tobias and Alan Cotnig, the mastermind behind this whole ordeal, still out there. But we have three down. We'll get them." He stood up, as did Frank.

Frank extended his hand, which Clara grasped. "Thank you," Frank repeated. "I owe you a very big one."

"Take care of your dad- of your family. That's my thanks," Clara responded earnestly, and Frank smiled, grateful.

"I think your brother is about ready to see you." Frank turned to see Pat Merkel walk in the room. "We just got word. He's in his room- 304."

Frank breathed a sigh of relief before bursting into a cough and waved his thanks to both men as he headed towards the elevator. He was so thankful to be surrounded by these competent, brave, and heroic officers who had stopped at nothing to help him and his family. Even Pat had volunteered to, as he said, "Take one for the team," and had been the one to call both Vanessa and his mother initially to fill them in on what was happening. Of course, that had led to about 20 phone calls anyway from both of them to him, and he was fine trying to explain what he knew, but dealing with their worry and panic, justified though it was, was sucking the last bit of life he had left out of him. But at least Pat had suffered the initial blow!

There were two madmen still on the loose. He still needed to see his dad and brother. He was worried sick about Callie. It wasn't done yet, but it was a start.

It only took a minute for the elevator to reach the third floor, and, as soon as it did, he found Joe's room right away. He entered quickly, and took in a quick breath when he saw his brother's pale face. He stared down at him as he took a shaky breath and ran a hand nervously through his hair.

Only minutes later, as though sensing his brother in the room with him, Joe's eyes fluttered open. He tried to focus, the pain medicine making him light headed and dopey… but he didn't feel any real pain as long as he didn't move. "Hey…" he drawled.

Frank shook his head. "Oh, Joe," he sighed. "Are you okay, little brother?"

"I'm groovy," he said with a half-aware smile.

"You WOULD go and get yourself shot," Frank went on, beyond relieved at the fact that Joe was conscious.

All of a sudden, Joe found himself more aware. Okay-Frank was here. His brother was right in front of him, and, somehow, they were both safe. "Sorry about that," he answered. Then, he met Frank's eyes."You look like hell."

Frank snorted. "You don't look so hot yourself, but thanks," he retorted with an eye roll. "Good thing you survived," he went on, "because now you can deal with your wife and mother. They're a little concerned about your whole near-death experience."

Joe managed a weak smile. "Think Van will nurse me back to health?" he joked.

Frank gave him a disgusted look."Really, Joe?!"

Joe laughed but immediately moaned, squeezing his eyes. God, his side hurt. So much for the pain meds. When he opened his eyes, he saw Frank immediately beside him, eyes full of concern. Before Joe knew what was happening, he felt Frank's arm around his shoulders, hugging him. His brother, normally so reserved, looked at him with tears in his eyes. "Damn it, Joe," he said, in a painfully tight voice. "You're such an idiot, but I love you, okay? Take it easy!"

Joe sheepishly looked at his brother. "I know," he said, serious for once. "And I'm sorry. I really am," he went on in a low voice. "Pat told me what happened- how you saved dad- how you almost died." He choked back his own emotions. "I'm glad I wasn't conscious. I…" He was at a loss.

"It's okay," Frank choked out. "I get it."

Joe closed his eyes for a moment as the magnitude of the day's events closed in on him. He could not have been more relieved to have Frank next to him, to have felt his comforting embrace. He was reminded again of how much he needed his older brother in his life; what a steady and loyal friend and role model he had always been.

Weakly, he opened his eyes. "How's dad? How are you?"

"Alive," Frank finally replied, followed by a coughing spell that made him move his arm from Joe and sit up. When he finally settled down, Joe looked with deep concern at him.

Frank noticed as he caught his breath. "I'm better than I thought I'd be earlier. Don't worry." He leaned back and mussed Joe's hair quickly. "YOU, on the other hand, have to recoup. You're going to eventually need major PT on your leg. I have no idea how your knee wasn't hit, but otherwise your leg is a mess. Another bullet grazed your side. While it wasn't major, it's going to be sore as hell when you try to move. Join the list of family members with significant blood loss," he added, seriously. "Stitches, antibiotics, and therapy are the only things that'll help you. Oh-and time. You lucked out, Joe. Scared the hell out of me, though."

Joe ignored the ramifications, not wanting to think about them. He joked softly instead. "Too bad I don't have your new low, sexy voice. Then Van would really find me irresistible."

"Not funny," Frank replied, trying to avoid thinking, himself. If Joe had… no. He wouldn't go there. "It's really not," was all he could say.

"Lighten up, old man," Joe answered with a small smile, trying to break the tension.

"Speaking of old men… yours is finally here." Frank and Joe looked up to see their father standing in the doorway.

"Dad!" Frank said softly. If he lived through the absolute insanity of this past week or two, and his heart could still take it, he would consider himself blessed. He'd never been so stressed and overwhelmed in his life. He stood up and walked to his father, hugging him tightly. As his dad held him, Frank fought back his tears again. He felt like a little kid for a second, the briefest feeling of security passing through him as his dad seemed to silently assure him everything might just be okay. His dad quickly kissed his cheek, and, after he released Frank, he did the same with Joe, embracing him tightly as well.

"I have so much to tell you both. We all have so much to talk about," Fenton said quietly as he sat down on the chair beside Joe's bed, looking at his son with a mixture of fear and concern. He brushed back Joe's hair from his forehead. "We're going to get you transferred back to Bayport Memorial," he said quietly.

Joe nodded and closed his eyes, giving into the exhaustion at last.

Fenton turned to Frank. "Agent Gold filled me in," he said, squeezing Frank's shoulder. "I know what's true and what's not now. That picture I saw of Callie… I'm so sorry, son."

"I didn't see it," Frank answered in a shaky voice, avoiding his dad's piercing stare. "I don't want to."

"I'm sorry about John, too," Fenton went on, understanding. "Is Callie okay now? It- it looked bad."

Frank shrugged, trying to be strong. "She's hanging in there," he managed.

"Frank," he began, gently rubbing his back. "You saved my life. I want you to know that I am so proud of you. This week was hell for me, but you've been through worse. You AND your brother. Rest. We'll all need each other to end this."

"We WILL end it, though," Frank replied, a fierce determination in his dark eyes that cut through all else. "I promise, Dad. No one hurts my father; my brother; my sister in law; my friend; my wife." He bit his lip to keep it from quivering. "No one."

Father and son, together once again, stood weakly, but firmly, in unity. The end was close, and they would win this war; solve this case; avenge their wrongs.

Together.


	23. Chapter 23

**Note:** _ **T** here has been a glitch at this site for over a week wherein people are not being notified of updates to stories. If this is still the case and you did not receive a notification, chapters 21 and 22 have been posted in this time and you should read those first. Argh- darned technology! I'll be posting the next chapter in 3-4 days, so, if the issues persists, check back then. As always, I am so very appreciative for those of you reading and following. I am especially grateful for those of who take the time to leave reviews. To that end, thanks to the following people for your feedback since the last chapter was posted: Caranath, Guest, Erin Jordan, Tin Dog, Paulina Ann, Hero 76, hlahabibty, max2013, ulstergirl, and Evergreen Dreamweaver. Four more chapters to go after this! :)_

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 23

"I still can't believe it," Vanessa said, dabbing at her eyes, as she spoke with Laura Hardy in Callie's room. The Shaws were in the cafeteria having dinner with Andrea, and they had all agreed to keep a constant vigil over Callie, who, herself, had seemed embarrassed over all the fuss. Right now, though she was resting comfortably, to everyone's relief.

"I know, sweetheart," Laura said, reaching out for Vanessa's hand. "But he's okay- thank God- and he'll be here in about a half hour. Within the hour, you'll be together."

Vanessa gave a shaky smile. "Oh, Laura!" she gasped suddenly, hand over her mouth. "I'm so sorry! You've been the best mother-in law ever, and I couldn't have made it through everything without you. I know you probably need to talk about everything; you just have been scared to death- we all were- when Fenton was missing. And then to hear that Frank was there and Joe was shot. You're the bravest person I know. I'm sorry I've chewed your ear off with my own fears."

Laura smiled reassuringly at her daughter-in-law and squeezed her hand. "Oh, honey. I'm no stronger than you. I cry, too, sometimes, even after all of these years."

Vanessa nodded, listening intently.

"You'll get used to this life, honey. It's not easy, but you have to hold on to the love you have for your family; that they have for you. You have to have faith that things will work out."

"But they don't always," Vanessa countered sadly, thinking of Johnny; of why Callie was still in this godawful precarious situation.

"No- they don't," Laura smiled kindly, seeing in Vanessa the fire and headstrong nature she often saw in her youngest son, along with his bravery and loyalty. "But you need to know that they wouldn't be who they are doing anything else. This is their calling. My son adores you, as we all do. I understand what you're feeling. Joseph is your husband, but he's my baby. Frank is, too- though everyone, myself included, sometimes rely on him to be the source of everyone's strength, and that's not really fair. Those handsome young men who have charmed you and Callie are the same little boys whose diapers I changed, who cried to their mommy when life got hard, and who adore their father. I love my sons, and my daughters," she added with a smile, "and my husband, who, I swear, has made me very old before my time with his shenanigans. But I never question _why_ anymore, sweetheart. I just pray for the best."

Vanessa leaned over from her chair and hugged Laura tightly. "I love you, Laura. Thanks for being my second mom all these years."

"Thank you for being my son's angel," she replied, hugging her back. "And my other daughter. I love you and Callie very much, and I love how you love each other and how you both love my sons. This nightmare will end soon, honey. May it be the worst thing you ever face. Just know that, no matter what you face in the future, I- WE- will always be here for you."

Vanessa smiled as she pulled back from Laura, who didn't miss the fact that Vanessa had surreptitiously sneaked a glance at her watch. Laura grinned.

"Hello!" a very tall, broad doctor said gruffly as he walked into the room.

"Hi," Laura said, not recognizing the new doctor. "May we help you?"

The doctor gave a small smile and walked to Callie's bed, picking up the chart and examining it. As he did so, he glanced at the monitor for several moments, looking back and forth between the monitor and Callie.

"Is everything okay?" Laura asked hesitantly. Vanessa met her eyes, questioning.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, continuing to stare at Callie, causing Laura to feel uncomfortable.

"I can assure you, my daughter -in -law has received excellent care here. A nurse just stopped by an hour ago and said she was stable."

The doctor nodded, grunting something. "How far along is she again?" he asked, gruffly.

"Almost 33 weeks," Vanessa answered, and Laura followed up with, "Shouldn't you know that?"

The doctor's stare was disconcerting. "Of course I know that, but sometimes mistakes happen and it never hurts to verify information with the family." He glanced at the chart again. "Hmm. It seems like there have been some issues with her blood pressure and the child's. That's a concern."

"She's been through an absolutely traumatic experience," Laura replied, eyes never leaving his.

"Of course," the doctor replied. He looked up at the various IVs attached to Callie's arm. "Some of these are running low. I may have them changed- up the antibiotic dosage a bit; make sure her fluid levels are okay."

Something about the doctor bothered Laura, but she fought off the nagging feeling that something was off. She had always relied on instinct, a trait she had passed down to Joe, she knew well, and she was not often off. Still, she had been incredibly worried about Fenton and the boys and hadn't slept well, so her logical thought process and instinct as well wasn't fine tuned today, to say the least. Besides, officers surrounded Callie's room. _I'm just tired,_ she thought.

"I'll be right back," the doctor said, and walked out of the room.

"He's a weirdo," Vanessa said with a yawn, and Laura chuckled. Maybe that was it-he was a weirdo. Vanessa's way with words always amused her.

Several minutes later, the doctor returned with two bags filled with fluid. He certainly looked like he knew what he was doing, effortlessly switching out two bags without so much as waking Callie. "We'll keep a close eye on her, be sure of that," he said with a tight smile. "Have a good evening, ladies." And then he was gone.

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"Do we have any leads on Cotnig?" Frank asked Chief Collig. Now that Joe was settled into his room with Vanessa, his dad and mom were reunited in the waiting area outside Joe's room, and Callie was safe with her parents, Frank had a few minutes to catch up with Chief Collig.

Collig had met briefly with Fenton and Joe, and was still at the hospital with several of his officers and a few FBI agents. He had wanted to see Frank as well.

"None," he said evenly. "And that's what I don't like. A person just doesn't disappear, especially with every law enforcement officer in the area searching for him."

"So you think he's close by," Frank responded.

"I don't know how he would have escaped," Collig answered. "Not to mention…"

"I know," Frank answered with a sigh. "He didn't finish the job."

"That's why you're all in one place- we have it under lock and key. A hospital is a hard place to secure, but, between John Gellers's death, your family under attack, and my own situation- it's just better to have us all in one place. It shouldn't be too much longer, lord willing," Collig said as he smiled at Frank. "Get some rest, son. Go- stay with your wife. This has been a hell of a day. Give Joe my best again, and Callie as well. I'm going to rest myself. The staff has been kind enough to set up a room for my officers and I to rest while we're working."

He bid Frank goodnight, and headed away.

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A few hours later, Frank had fallen asleep in the chair by Callie's bed. He had no idea how long he'd been sleeping when he was awakened by a soft cry. He blinked his eyes several times before he could focus, but, once he did, he immediately became alarmed. Callie was sitting up in bed, gripping the side rails tightly. Her cheeks were flushed despite her pale countenance, and she was sweating and trembling. The monitors started beeping.

"Frank," she moaned. "Help…"

"What's the matter?!" he asked, alarmed, pushing down one rail and sitting on the edge of her bed.

"It hurts," she gasped, tears starting to stream down her face. She started shaking and clung to his hand, and he could tell that she was in pain.

"What? Where?" he asked, holding onto her arm as he heard a commotion in the hallway.

She started panting and closed her eyes. "Oh, God. My back. My stomach." It seemed as if she could not catch her breath.

"Sir, you have to move," a nurse said, and moved past him. She glanced at the monitor and her eyes grew wide. She shouted into the hallway for backup. "Code blue. Code blue! BP 180/ 120. Page a doctor now."

Frank watched in horror as several doctors and nurses ran into the room. All he could do was hold onto Callie's leg as oxygen masks were applied and doctors started reading charts and calling for a gurney. He couldn't even get in a word between all the chaos. For several agonizing minutes, he was ripped away from her and could only watch helplessly as all hell broke loose in the room.

Finally, an older doctor seemed to noticed his presence.

"Are you the father?" he asked.

"Yes- yes! Callie is my wife. What's wrong?!" He was panicking. Callie was trying to reach for him in vain, and he almost shoved the nurses away to get to her.

The doctor pulled him aside. "Your wife's blood pressure has skyrocketed; the baby is extremely unstable. She seems to be in very active labor all of a sudden. We have to take her for an emergency c-section. This is a dangerous situation," he doctor said quietly to him. "You have to be calm. Listen to me," he emphasized. "Be CALM."

Frank nodded, unable to swallow the lump in his throat.

"Go with the nurse-" The doctor indicated for a young man to come over to them. "Get prepped- you can come into the room."

"She's barely 33 weeks along," he whispered, desperate.

"Son, right now, that's the least of your problems," the doctor said, emphatically. "This blood pressure situation is life threatening. You'll have about five minutes to speak to your wife while the prep is complete and you fill out emergency forms. Tell your family what's going on. Come back in five minutes. Then, we're in surgery. Go-"

Frank reached for Callie's hand quickly and motioned that he'd be right back. He managed to see his in laws, who immediately entered Callie's room while he found his own parents.

"What?" Laura asked, shocked."She's in labor-now? She- I mean…"

"Ma, I know," Frank managed to get out. "I… I have to get back to her." He rubbed his head, his hand shaking. "They want me to fill out forms and…"

"The Shaws and I will do that," Laura said evenly as Frank felt his dad's arm around his shoulders. She took the papers from Frank and scanned them quickly. "Sign here," she told him, and he did as instructed, having no idea what he was doing. "And here. And here again," Laura finished.

"Thanks, mom," he managed.

"We love you, son," Fenton said. "And we love Callie. Go. We'll tell Joe and Vanessa what's going on. Hey-" Fenton added, squeezing Frank's shoulders. "It's going to be okay. Breathe."

Frank nodded, quickly hugging his parents, and then ran back to Callie.

"She's okay," Mrs. Shaw said before he was able to enter the room, but Frank saw the fear in her eyes. He paused another quick moment. "I'll let you both know what's going on," he said quickly to both of his in- laws, "as soon as I can." He gave his mother- in -law a quick hug and patted his father in-law's arm.

Finally, he got into the room. "Mr. Hardy?" a nurse inquired. "We're heading down in five minutes. Put these on when we get there." She handed him scrubs, which he threw on faster than he thought humanly possible, not waiting as instructed, as the nurse spoke. He couldn't even think. "I'll give you two minutes, but it's going to be very fast from here."

She stepped outside.

Frank stood beside Callie, who was already on the stretcher. _Be calm_ , he told himself. "Hey baby," he said to her, touching her cheek. Despite how pale she was, despite the noticeable flush on her face, despite how ragged her breath was, he was struck again by how very beautiful she was. He looked in her eyes, and managed a smile, and she mirrored it slowly. Time froze for a brief moment, and suddenly there was only silence; only them.

"This is it, sweetheart," he managed tenderly, and reached for her hand, which she clutched as a refuge against the pain.

Callie whispered, "This is the last time it's just us, huh?"

Frank nodded, then got as close to her as he could. "You fight as hard as you can, okay? _Please_ , baby. And I'll be with you every single step." He bent down and kissed her. "Like I always have been. I love you," he mouthed, words leaving him at last.

Callie squeezed his hand again and gasped as pain ripped through her abdomen. "I love you, too, babe," she mouthed back, exhausted.

A doctor came into the room. "It's time to go," he said. Kindly, he touched Callie's shoulder."Hang in there, young lady," he said to her. And, to Frank, he added, "Congratulations. You're about to become a father."

Frank nodded, grasping Callie's hand, and they started to exit the room, leaving only the softest echo of those profound words hanging in the air.


	24. Chapter 24

**Note:** _I am so very appreciative of the people reading, following, and especially leaving feedback. This week has been crazy with the site- notifications were not sent out, so, if you were waiting for one, please note you may have missed the last two chapters or so. If that is the case, please read those first. Thank you all for the support with this story, as it means more than you know. With special thanks for their reviews since the last chapter, thank you- TinDog, Paulina Ann, Red Hardy, SnowPrincess88, ErinJordan, hbndgirl, elstergirl, hero76, hlahabibty, Laurie Q, and EvergreenDreamweaver. Three more chapters!_

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 24

Frank was ushered into a small waiting area while Callie was being prepped for surgery. He was told that, within 15 minutes, he'd be called in to watch the birth of his child, something for which he was completely unprepared.

He sat on a hard chair in the middle of the cold and sparse room and rested his head in his hands, trying to make sense of everything, but nothing came to him. He was struck again by how quickly life could change. Under two weeks ago, life had been gloriously normal. How had it all gone so wrong, so quickly?

At once, he found himself reminiscing, caught between the best times in his life and the recent weeks. Immediately, his mind flashed to Callie; all of the beautiful moments that they'd shared after spending almost half their lives together. He had always counted himself especially lucky to have married his best friend, to still be excited to see her when he came home each day from work. She always listened patiently, put up with his dangerous job, made him laugh, and gave him a happier life than he'd ever thought possible. And when she had told him that she was pregnant, he remembered the exact moment, the feeling of joy unsurpassed by anything he had ever experienced, and he knew that it would be more important than ever to provide her a safe haven, to protect her and their child and the life they had created together.

He took a deep, shaky breath, because he had failed to do so, and the guilt was overwhelming.

Plus, if he was being honest, he was scared to death. He hadn't missed the panic in the doctors and nurses eyes when they'd looked at Callie, or the way that her blood pressure kept climbing for no reason. And, though he had never experienced watching someone in labor before, he knew that her contractions were way too fast, and that her breathing issues were not normal, nor was her pain level which had come on out of nowhere. "Preeclampsia"- he had heard the doctor utter the word, and knew what it meant, but how? And why? Callie had never had any health issues before; she worked out, ate well, and took good care of herself, even with the insanely difficult pregnancy. He hadn't had time to ask and no one had told him anything. Why had she suddenly gone into labor? It didn't make sense. But it didn't matter, did it? He had to deal with the present, but he couldn't lose her. THAT he knew.

"Why?" he whispered out loud to himself. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. They had so much left to do, so many plans that now didn't matter. All they had both prayed for was a healthy baby, and then, when Callie had started having complications in her fifth month, for both of them to make it through the full nine months healthy. But it hadn't happened that way.

Would his baby be sick? He or she was almost 8 weeks early. The thought that his child could be sick… or worse… was unfathomable, and he willed himself not to think about it.

He desperately wanted his brother there with him to talk to, or even his father. Johnny- he would have been a nervous wreck, too.

He had never felt a mixture of terror and excitement like he did in this moment. Looking down at the scrubs he was wearing made the moment even more surreal. The smallest of laughs escaped as he imagined how Joe would have made fun of his look, broken the tension as only he had the ability to. He really missed having him there.

Finally, he sat up straight, ran a hand nervously through his hair, and took a deep breath, willing himself to be calm. He had to be; there was no choice.

The door opened. A young nurse with a kind smile said to him, "Mr. Hardy? It's time. Come with me."

Frank nodded slowly and managed to smile back. It _was_ time.

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Joe looked around at his family gathered in the waiting area and felt himself getting jittery. He had insisted on being there, would not have missed it for the world. So, here he was, in a wheelchair with his own set of IVs attached to it, and his body screaming in pain at him to go the hell back to sleep.

"Shut up," he murmured to himself.

"Excuse me?" Vanessa asked, looking at him and reaching for his hand.

"Sorry, Babe. I was talking to myself,'" he said sheepishly.

"Why?" she asked.

Joe went to explain, and then thought better of it. The only way he would seem more like an idiot is if he actually tried to articulate his thoughts. "Um… the meds?" he asked, raising his brows.

Vanessa rolled her eyes. "Well, now at least I know you're on recovery's path," Vanessa teased him gently. "You're back to silliness." She squeezed his hand.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" Laura asked him, walking to him quickly and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "You have to take it easy, honey. You shouldn't even be out of bed yet, much less…"

"Mama," Joe said, "I'm gonna be an uncle. And my brother's child will not have a wimp for an uncle." He gave his mom a quick wink.

"Joseph," Laura started, "I-"

"I know, mom. I'm okay. I'm pretty excited!" he had to admit.

Laura sighed but smiled."Do NOT overdo it," she cautioned. "Yes- we're all excited."

"Well, I'm worried," Vanessa lamented. She lowered her voice so that the Shaws, talking quietly to Fenton several seats down, wouldn't hear. "I mean, is it normal for blood pressure to go that high?"

"No, honey, it's not," Laura answered honestly. "But it was caught right away. The doctors know what they're doing."

"As long as Dr. Weirdo doesn't come back," Vanessa said with a shudder, and Laura silently agreed.

Joe had pretty much managed to avoid his mom and wife's banter until that last statement. He was worried about Callie, too, much more than he was letting on. Callie was one of the mentally strongest people he knew, but he'd seen first hand her physical condition and he didn't like it.

"Who's Dr. Weiro?" he asked, "because I'd like to avoid him if possible."

As Vanessa started to fill him in, he noticed two nurses leaving Callie's room at a distance, and they looked confused as they approached the night desk. He mentally made a note of it. Why would nurses be coming out of Callie's police -protected room? She wasn't even in there. Damn, he wished he was mobile and that his body wasn't on fire. He'd go ask himself right now what was going on if he could.

He turned to his wife. "So a doctor you hadn't seen before went into Cal's room? What did he do?"

Vanessa shifted in her seat nervously. "I mean, he just changed out a few bags. He didn't even wake Callie up. He was just creepy."

Joe scowled. Something didn't make sense.

"I know, honey. It bothered me, too," Laura said quietly.

Joe sighed. He wished everything wasn't so foggy. The medications had the effect of clouding his thoughts and not really helping all that much with his pain. But he forced himself to put it out of his mind and gave his mom's arm a quick squeeze, seeing the concern etched in her eyes.

"Smile, Grandma," he teased her.

"My baby's having a baby," she said to him with a smile. "I can't believe it, still."

"Frank must be a nervous wreck," Joe replied with a smile. "I can't believe that Frank is going to be someone's dad. It's just crazy."

Vanessa and Laura chuckled.

"I'm serious!" Joe went on, finding himself becoming more animated. "I hope the kid is adorable and wild and crazy and challenges all the rules and charms its way out of trouble and…"

Vanessa laughed out loud. "You hope Frank and Callie's baby is YOU!" she exclaimed.

Joe blushed a bit but then let out a little laugh, himself. "There'd be worse things," he said, lightly. As much as he wanted to be with his brother and share in the moment right now, and much as he wanted to make sure Callie was okay, above all he wanted to meet this baby. Ever since Frank and Callie had told him that she was pregnant, and especially since she had started to show, he had been beyond excited about having a new little baby in his life, someone he could spoil rotten and do right by forever. He loved this kid already.

And, with any luck, the baby would grow up with a very close first cousin. He wouldn't mind that at all, he thought fondly, as he sneaked a quick glance at Vanessa. Truth be told, he couldn't wait to become a dad, himself. But in the meantime, he would move heaven and earth to be the world's best, most fun, coolest uncle ever.

He smiled at the thought, reached for Vanessa's hand, and waited.

UGH- he HATED waiting.

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Alan Cotnig slipped surreptitiously into the building. Sometimes, the best place to hide really was in plain sight. Besides, he reminded himself with a small grin, where else would a man with serious burns to his skin not cause anyone to stare? A hospital was the perfect setting. The hunted right before the hunters, on purpose. He enjoyed the irony.

As he walked through the doors, head down, he knew where he was headed. Tobias had done okay thus far; finished off Gellers and maybe Callie Hardy and her child as well. It was a start.

And after he found Fenton Hardy and Ezra Collig again, it would be a finish; their exquisite end.

He strode forward. The time was getting close now. He had nothing left to lose.

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It was the most beautiful moment of his life. From behind the blue curtain, the doctor had lifted the baby, who was not supposed to even have had strong enough lungs to breathe on its own, and he heard it. It was faint; more like a mew than anything, but it was there. The baby cried. And it was more perfect than any symphony orchestra playing in perfect harmony.

"Congratulations!" the doctor smiled. "You have a son!"

A different doctor carried the baby quickly to them. Frank watched as Callie, arms strapped down, unable to move, had the baby placed close to her face for a moment, tears streaming from her eyes. The baby was taken right away to the various NIC-U nurses present at the birth.

As his son was worked on, he leaned down and kissed Callie, sure that he had never loved anyone more.

"He's perfect," he managed to say as he felt his own tears spill over.

"I want to see him again," Callie whispered.

The doctor interjected as he came around to Callie and Frank. "Mr. and Mrs. Hardy, you can see your baby in a few minutes very quickly as we get his vitals. Then we need to get him to the NIC-U quickly for assessment- preemies require special care. Mr. Hardy, you can go with your son while we finish with Mrs. Hardy and she's in recovery."

The next few minutes passed in a whir. Frank found himself torn between wanting to ensure that Callie was okay and wanting to make sure the baby was okay.

He heard all sorts of stats he didn't understand, but two he did- 3 pounds, 9 ounces and 16 inches- and then, before he knew what was happening, a clean and swaddled little human was placed in his arms.

He was so tiny, so light, but he was the most perfect thing Frank had ever seen in his life. He thought his heart might burst with love as he looked at his son. _His SON_ who was, unbelievably, still trying to cry, and the smallest noise emanated from his beautiful little mouth. And then, he opened his eyes, just the tiniest bit, and Frank's heart melted.

Instinctively, he bent down to Callie, holding their baby close to her face, and watched as she nuzzled his body. She looked incredulous. One of the doctors took Callie's cell phone, which had been placed away from the operating table, and took a few quick pictures of them all.

"Do you have a name?" a nurse asked.

Frank looked at Callie and at the baby. "What do you think, honey?" he asked, and, when her whispered reply came out, he smiled. "That's perfect," he told her, and kissed her again. He wondered if this was what it felt like to watch your heart exist outside of your body, to truly love people more than yourself.

"Mr. Hardy?" a nurse asked. "I hate to interrupt, but we have to take your son now. Would you like to come?"

"Go," Callie encouraged him in a faint voice.

A doctor approached him quickly and ushered him to the side. "Go with your new baby," he said. "We need to finish with your wife. She's doing okay, but she's bleeding heavily and her pressure is still elevated. The more quickly we can finish with her, the less stress there will be on her body. This is still a serious situation, but so far, so good."

Frank felt his heart beat hard. He saw the nurses in the doorway, ushering him to follow. Before he did, he stopped quickly again by Callie, leaning down to speak quietly."I'll be waiting for you and I'm with him. Don't worry, sweetheart," he whispered in her ear. "I love you so much," he added. "Our son and I need you."

"I love you," she answered, simply, in a soft voice. "YOU don't worry, okay?" she replied weakly.

He met her eyes for the briefest of moments, fighting tears, and gently pushed her hair from her forehead. Sometimes, a simple loving touch meant more than words could ever convey.

And he knew she understood.

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Two hours later, Frank checked with the doctor, who had told his parents and in-laws that the baby had been born, and that mother and child were okay, but that was it.

He briefly checked on his wife. Callie was recovering. She was dizzy, painfully weak, and still not stabilized, having had other blood transfusions because of her excessive bleeding. Her blood pressure was still elevated, but it was coming down very slowly. She would be in her normal room soon enough. Frank stared at her from afar, and had faith. She was a fighter, and God knew, she had something to fight for now.

He'd been with the baby, but knew it would be awhile before the tests were completed and the results were in. It was time to see his family.

As soon as he reached the waiting room, he was surrounded by everyone asking a million questions at once.

He smiled and laughed."Whoa. Hold on. Callie's recovering. She's okay for now." He watched as he saw the relief on everyone's faces.

"Well?" Joe said, and Frank turned to his brother. "Come on! Is the baby…"

A pin could have dropped in the room. "It's a boy!" Frank said as his face burst into a smile, and the room erupted in cheers and applause as everyone gathered to hug him, smiles and tears all around.

"He's so little," Frank went on, unable to stop smiling, and gave them all the info he had, including all the up to date tests that were being done. "Come on- I'll take you to the NIC-U. You can see him through the window."

"What does he look like?" Vanessa asked, excited.

Frank's whole expression softened. "He's perfect," he said, and was met with ooohs and ahhhs from Vanessa, Laura, and Callie's mom.

"Does the kid have a name?" Joe asked.

Frank looked down at Joe in the wheelchair and saw his exhaustion and frustration at not being able to stand. "Yeah," Frank said, and knelt down beside his brother. "He sure does."

Frank was speaking loudly enough for everyone, but looking his brother right in the eyes. He covered Joe's hand with his own. "It was Callie's idea, and I couldn't agree with it more. We're going to call him JJ, but his formal name is Jonathan Joseph. We wanted to name him after his two favorite uncles who loved him before he was even born." He squeezed Joe's hand quickly.

Joe felt tears come to his eyes. "Can I still call him Joe?" he choked out after a minute.

Frank leaned forward and hugged him gently, careful not to hurt him. "No," he replied firmly as he pulled back, and everyone started laughing.

"Fine," Joe managed, hugging him back tightly, heart overcome with emotion. "I guess that's acceptable. For now..."

And for the first time in two weeks, if even for a moment, everyone was finally at peace.


	25. Chapter 25

_**Note:** I am posting this chapter a little earlier than the norm. I believe the glitch was fixed at the site, but if you missed chapters 21-24, you kind of need to read them before you read this one. I cannot thank everyone enough for your reviews. I smile each time I read one, and your feedback is so appreciated. There are two chapters left after this one. Thank you for your reviews since the last chapter to max 2013, ulstergirl, EastBlue (chapter 20), Tin Dog, Erin Jordan, Hero 76, EvergreenDreamweaver, BeeBe18, and hbndgirl. I believe that's everyone! Hope you all enjoy! I'll post the next chapter Tuesday._

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 25

"OW!" Joe grimaced as he stretched, effectively cutting off his yawn.

"You okay?" asked a concerned voice.

Joe opened up his eyes slowly and sucked in his breath. His side was throbbing and his leg had shooting pains running through it. He exhaled slowly and immediately noticed the sunlight streaming through the window in the room. He reached up and instinctively covered his eyes.

Without a word, Frank got up and closed the shade. "What can I get you?" he asked, standing by the bed. "Want me to see if the nurses are around? Do you need more pain medication?"

Joe finally focused. "That'd be great. Yeah," he responded.

Frank left the room and came back with a nurse a few minutes later. "How are you, young man?" she asked in a thick southern accent.

"I'm okay, thanks," he answered. "But I could use the medication, for sure." He gave a small smile.

The middle aged nurse returned the grin, handed him the pills and a cup of water, and recorded the medicine dosage on the chart. Then she looked at him and added, "Listen, sugar doll, you better take it easy now, ya hear?" she drawled. "A nurse will be back in a few hours to check on your wounds; maybe it'll be me if you're lucky. You may even be ready for a sponge bath." She winked at him.

Joe felt the color rise to his face as he watched Frank, with his tongue in his cheek, trying really hard not to laugh.

"Uh… I think I'm clean enough, thanks," he managed.

"Oh, I don't know, sugar," she replied. "You look like you're a dirty boy."

At that, Joe almost spit out his water as Frank started coughing loudly to hide his laugh, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes.

The nurse turned to him. "Honey bunny, I simply do not know why you're choking. Perhaps you'll need a little extra attention yourself?"

Frank looked startled, and now Joe found himself stifling a laugh.

"No…" Frank stammered. "I'm good."

The nurse eyed him up and down slowly. "Yes, Sir, I bet you are."

Joe guffawed as he watched his brother turn bright red.

The nurse looked at both of them and smoothed her hair. Then, she crossed her arms. "Listen, y'all," she said with the slightest glimpse of mischief in her eyes. "It's been up and down in crazy town since ya'll got here. There's been the po-lice and those agents all around. Our hospital has been turned into a ho-tel. Some crazy medical hoopla have been going on round here. I'm just glad that the people who are at the center of this craziness are the two of you cutie pa-tooties. It's sure a nice little ole distraction to have some pretty boys here. Ya'll call if you need anything, ya hear?" She left a minute later after reviewing Joe's chart.

"Well, _that_ woke me up," Joe mumbled, and Frank laughed.

"What are you complaining about, _dirty_ boy?" Frank teased, eyes twinkling.

"Shut up, _pretty_ boy!" Joe countered. He sat up slowly and relaxed. "Where's Van?" he asked, noting his wife's absence.

"Oh. She said she wanted to give you some private time with Irma Wilhelmina," Frank replied with a straight face.

"Who?" Joe asked, confused.

"The nurse."

"Frank!" Joe exclaimed, exasperated. Then, he surprised himself as a laugh escaped his lips. "Tell me that's not her name," he managed.

"It is- I swear," Frank said with a chuckle. He finally sat down on a chair by Joe's bed. "To answer your question, Vanessa is with Callie right now. She wanted to see her."

"How's she doing?" Joe asked, more serious. "I'd like to see her myself."

Frank's smile faltered the smallest bit. "She's stable now, finally. She's just so weak. It's hard seeing her like that," he admitted in a soft voice.

"She's a fighter," Joe replied, reaching over to touch Frank's forearm. "I'm serious. Look at what she's been through. Look at how far she's come. She'll be fine," he assured Frank.

Frank took a deep breath. "Thanks, Joe."

"How's JJ?" Joe asked. He remembered seeing his nephew last night. He was tiny, but Frank had been correct- he was perfect. "I love that kid," he said without thinking.

Frank's smile returned. "Yeah, me too," he said. Then he continued, more serious. "He has to be watched pretty carefully. He'll have to have the little oxygen tubes for awhile, and he's slightly anemic. It's one of those things that have to be monitored closely. But thank God-he's doing pretty well."

"Well, yeah," Joe said without hesitation. "He's my nephew, obviously."

"I'm not even going to ask," Frank replied with a sigh.

"When can I hold him?" Joe asked, unable to contain his excitement.

"I don't know," Frank admitted, dejected. "That's the hardest part right now. We can't hold him until his body temperature regulates more. And he may be in the NIC-U for 3 or 4 weeks."

"No way," Joe replied, concerned.

"Yeah. Supposedly it's pretty standard. It just depends on his progress." Frank looked out the window in the distance. "It kills me not to hold him; Callie's never held him, and she's dying to. Whenever she manages to stay awake for a few minutes, it's all she's asked for, and I…" his voice cut out a bit, "I can't do that for her."

"Soon," Joe responded, squeezing Frank's arm.

"I still don't know how Callie got this sick, this quickly," Frank went on, sighing. "I'm just so grateful that I have a beautiful little baby and that she made it through the birth, that Dad's back, that Van's here, that you're okay. I know there are still dangers out there, but I just want to go home, you know?"

"I know," Joe answered. He was quiet for a few minutes, thinking. Frank's admission about Callie's condition triggered something in his mind. It only took a few minutes for it to come back to him.

"Frank," he said, not sure how to phrase his idea. "Is Cal back in the same room she started in?" he asked.

"Mmm hmm. Why?" he asked, curious.

Before Joe could answer, their father walked in the room. "Hey, uncle and daddy," he greeted them, wrapping an arm around Frank. "What's going on?" He stretched his sore body. As much as he'd been through, seeing his grandson had invigorated him, given him strength he didn't know he had.

"Where to start," Frank replied, dryly, and Fenton chuckled.

"I can't wait to hold him!" Fenton said joyfully. "There's nothing like holding your baby- nothing. And I can imagine that a grandbaby may even- dare I say- top that."

Frank turned to his dad and filled him in on everything he had just told Joe about his son and Callie.

"Speaking of Callie," Joe cut in. "I just wanted to discuss something with you, actually."

"Okay," Frank said, curious again. Fenton studied him as well.

Joe took a deep breath before he explained about "Dr. Weirdo," the feeling he gave to Vanessa and his mom, and then he related what he had seen with the nurses and their hurrying to the station last night.

"That's strange," Fenton agreed, "but what could it be? Officers are outside her room now, just as they were before. They're swarming around the hospital. Surely, there has to be a record of the man's identity. I'm sure we can find out. Then, we can ask him if he noticed Callie's pressure increasing when he saw her. Did he say anything?"

Joe furrowed his brow. "I think Van told me that he said he'd be keeping a close eye on Callie."

"As he should," Fenton added. But, seeing how uncomfortable Joe was, he added, "but Frank and I will find out. If anyone knew anything, at minimum, it would give answers to why Callie had problems, and hopefully avoid them in the future. How does that sound?"

"Thanks, Dad," he said. "I just don't like loose ends. I'd go, but…"

"You absolutely will not," Fenton adamantly replied. "Get some rest. We'll be back."

Joe nodded as he watched his father and brother turn to leave. He knew he wouldn't rest until he had answers.

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Under an hour later, Fenton returned to Joe's room, disturbed.

"What did you find out?" Joe asked, yawning.

"There was no doctor supposed to be on rounds last night around the time your mother and Vanessa spoke with that doctor," he answered, agitated. "Worse yet, Callie's normal doctor, the one in charge of her case, knew nothing of it."

Joe sat up straighter. "Okay," he replied at last, shocked. "Then who was it?"

"I don't know," Fenton answered. "But I will find out. Collig is speaking to the head of the hospital right now. No way should an unauthorized person have gotten past his men. They're going to pull video surveillance as well as interview some nurses who were there last night."

Before the conversation could further continue, Frank strode into the room, face pale, clearly upset.

"What's the matter?" Joe asked at once. He couldn't get used to seeing his unflappable older brother so shaken lately, as bad news seemingly kept him in its grasp. He didn't think he could handle it if everything was thrown at him ceaselessly as it was with Frank, and he marveled at how his brother hadn't had a mental breakdown by this point.

"I finally got the nurses to talk," he began. "I think they were scared I would sue them."

"Why would you sue them?" Joe asked.

"Because there was a major, major error with Callie's medication," Frank replied evenly.

"What type of error?" Fenton asked, almost afraid to know the answer.

"They checked her charts again-there was no indication of a dosage change," Frank replied quietly. "They're supposed to record everything, no matter how small," he went on. "Look at Joe. The nurse recorded Tylenol. But nothing- Callie's chart was blank."

"That's strange," Fenton agreed.

"Did they tell you why they looked so freaked out last night? Had they seen something?" Joe asked.

Frank struggled to maintain his composure, though his heart was pounding.

"Frank?" Fenton asked, concerned.

Frank blinked back tears. "Whoever was in Callie's room took her off antibiotics, which she sorely needed. Now she's at very high risk for infection. Then he… he switched her IV to Pitocin."

Joe looked at him blankly. "What's that?"

"Callie was supposed to be on medication to stop her contractions. Every day she held onto the baby was better for her and for him. And it was working. But that medicine-" Frank took a deep, shaky breath and Joe saw he was on the edge of losing it. "It INDUCES labor."

Joe gasped as Fenton's eyes grew wide.

"Not only that," Frank went on, "it has serious side effects if it's not monitored. It wasn't," he went on, flatly. "It caused severe cramping and bleeding. It made Callie's blood pressure skyrocket. It caused her to have an irregular heartbeat and to have difficulty breathing. And it almost KILLED her." His voice was shaking in fear and rage, and his hands were balled into fists.

"My God," Fenton said, stunned, but Joe couldn't take his eyes off his brother.

"And my child is now being monitored for any number of illnesses and long term side effects."

Fenton walked to Frank, resting a hand on his back, and could feel him trembling.

"This- bastard- has targeted my family," he continued, voice rising. "And now my wife is still fighting for her life and my baby- my THREE POUND little baby- is…" He turned away from Joe and Fenton, his stomach turning, fury filling his veins.

Joe suppressed a moan as he forced himself out of bed and managed to finagle himself into the wheelchair.

"Frank," Fenton began, but Joe cut him off. "Leave him alone, Dad," Joe cautioned. He was scared for his sister in law and nephew, but even more- Frank looked like he was about to erupt. He was way past consolation, and Joe didn't blame him a bit.

At that moment, Collig burst in the room. "Bad news," he announced solemnly. "The guy was a doctor, but an unauthorized one. We got his picture." Collig's face reflected his anger. "He was on staff in reserve. No prints on file- they were supposedly burned in an accident. The ID stated his name was Topher Biass. Sound familiar? He headed out of the NIC-U less than 30 minutes ago."

Frank's face went white, and Collig turned to him. "He didn't get in. A nurse refused him entrance- security is tight there. Frank- it's Christopher Tobias." He held out a picture.

Frank could barely process what was in front of him. He had expected to feel anything other than what he did when he saw the picture- he knew that guy. But- from where?

Joe and Fenton stared at the picture as well, and then Frank gasped. Joe got it about 10 seconds after his brother. "No. No no no no..." Frank repeated, shaking. He turned quickly, grabbed the first thing he saw, which happened to be the remote control for the tv, and threw it violently against the wall. His face, still white, reflected a fury Joe had never seen before. He pushed past his father and Collig and burst through the door.

"What the hell?" Collig asked. "I know he's upset, but-"

"But?" Joe interjected, fiercely protective of his brother. "BUT?" he repeated angrily. "He has every right to be pissed. To be devastated. That animal destroyed or tried to destroy his life. He loves Callie more than anything. He's scared to death about his baby!" Joe couldn't control his anger and frustration which, he realized, was partially directed at himself. He should have said something earlier. And, damn it, it was killing him that he couldn't be with Frank, not to comfort him, but to protect him. Because he knew what Frank was going to do.

"I know, Joe," Fenton replied, trying to calm him.

"No- you don't!" Joe countered, holding back his own tears. "Because Frank and I saw that "doctor" before- only for a minute."

"What? Where?" Collig asked, grabbing for his radio.

"Several days ago," Joe explained in disbelief. "Coming out of Johnny Geller's room- less than an hour before he died."

"Oh, no," Fenton murmured.

"I'm sending some officers to the morgue," Collig stated immediately. "I assume there was an autopsy, and I need the results, STAT." He turned to Joe. "I'm sorry, son," he replied to Joe. "I hope we're wrong."

"You're not," Joe managed. He looked at the men before him. "I can't move," he stated honestly, sick with frustration. "But you need to find Frank. I'm telling you- he's going after Tobias."

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Frank ran through the hallways, blinded with rage. He knew it'd be minutes before Joe made the connection to Johnny and before Collig sent his men to find him.

It was as if everything fell into place in his mind as he ran. A half hour out of the NIC-U. He was still in the hospital- Frank knew it. He'd targeted Callie and JJ, but they weren't the main objective, which almost made him choke. His precious family was simply collateral damage to get at his father. And so was Johnny- to get to Callie- to get to him- and ultimately to his father. And Callie hadn't vocalized it, but he knew her so well- she felt soul crushing guilt that Johnny had died protecting her. But maybe that wasn't how Johnny had died at all.

He felt sick.

Tobias sure as hell would be after his dad and Collig. He wasn't done. Animals like him were relentless. And if he was there, why wouldn't Cotnig be there, too?

Frank pushed his way through the stairwell. His father had been spending a lot of time on the 10th floor, where all the meeting rooms were- and it happened to be two floors down from the NICU and exactly where his mother would be, as she was generally with his father. And if he knew that- Tobias would, too. He had seen her- and Vanessa, but she was with Callie under heavy protection right now. Tobias would be going after his mother. He felt it.

Frank ran up the stairs, enjoying the painful burning in his legs and lungs as he moved at record speed. And then he saw him, about to exit the stairwell on the 10th floor.

Before Tobias could even turn around, Frank grabbed his jacket, and, having the element of surprise on his side, flung him with all his might to the ground. Tobias grunted, wind knocked out of him.

"Hardy," he managed to sneer as he tried to move from Frank's vise-like grip. He looked him in the eye, and Frank knew he was looking into the eye of evil. "How're your wife and baby?" he gasped. "Dead yet?"

And then, Frank snapped. Reaching back, he hit him in the face, harder than he had ever punched anyone or anything. Blood went flying all over the place as he heard the sickening crunch of Tobias's nose. And then he punched him again. And again. And again. And again. It went on and on, and all he saw was the white light of fury.

Before he knew what was happening, he felt arms pulling him back. It took a full three officers to pry him off Tobias. "Stop! Frank, enough. Stop!" they shouted at him. But he couldn't stop, still swinging wildly with reckless abandon.

Finally, he was shoved against a wall and, to his shock, handcuffed. "STAY THERE!" an officer bellowed and shoved him down.

It took a full five minutes for him to sink back into himself as the fight finally left him. Doctors, officers- they were surrounding Tobias, throwing him on a stretcher. He was covered in blood- broken teeth on the floor, face so swollen he was virtually unrecognizable. Frank managed to look down at his own clothing, soaked in blood, and he realized without even consciously knowing it that he'd broken or seriously sprained his hand. The pain felt good.

As the chaos surrounded him, he saw Pat Merkel kneel next to him in disbelief. "I'm going to uncuff you now," he said directly to him. "If you so much as move in the wrong direction, they're going back on. Understand?"

Frank nodded, staring at Tobias being rushed into the hall. He jumped in pain when he felt the handcuff press against his wrist, and, when he was able to move his hands in front of him at last, he wasn't even surprised that his right hand was double its normal size, knuckles so swollen they looked like small balloons.

Pat touched his shoulder. "Holy shit, Frank. What happened to the cool and collected martial arts?"

"I wasn't feeling Zen," he answered without humor. "Is he dead?"

"Damned close to it, but no," Pat answered.

"Too bad," Frank answered flatly.

"Come on," Pat said, and helped Frank to his feet. "You need to see a doctor now about that hand."

Frank just nodded.

"I thought Joe was the hothead in the family," Pat went on. "Too bad he wasn't here now and totally healthy."

"Why?" Frank questioned. "He wouldn't have stopped me."

Pat put an arm around Frank. "You're right. But he would have helped you get the son of a bitch before you had to go and break your hand."

Frank turned to him, shocked.

"And maybe, just maybe, I would have arrived with reinforcements five minutes later," he went on without remorse. "And that might have been after you'd killed him. That would have been too bad."

Frank managed a smile. "Yeah. That would have been terrible."

Frank gave a final nod at Pat, and they walked together silently, united in understanding.

Timing, as always, was everything.


	26. Chapter 26

**Note:** _We are approaching the end. Only one more chapter to go after this! I sincerely appreciate the follows for this story and especially those of you who take the rime to review- it makes all the difference in the world! Many thanks to Red Hardy, Erin Jordan, East Blue, hbndgirl, Guest (#1), ulstergirl, max2013, Caranath, Paulina Ann, Hero 76, hlahabibty, EvergreenDreamweaver, and Guest (#2) for your reviews since the last chapter was posted. Every one of your comments was so appreciated!_

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 26

 _Two weeks later_

 _Fenton and Laura's house_

"Tonight's the night," Fenton said to his wife. "I feel like it's Christmas!"

Laura smiled at him, sitting next to him on the couch and sipping her tea. "I have to admit- I'm terribly excited as well."

Fenton reached over and held his wife's hand. The past month had been a nightmare, but all officials had assured him that they believed Cotnig had fled and that they were safe. They were confident that he would be tracked down soon, but felt that the Hardys could go on with their lives. To that end, they had all been home for the past 10 days or so, and it felt like the best place on Earth. "We're grandparents, Laura," he said to her. "Every time I think about it, I ask myself where all the time went. I think I may steal that little baby away and keep him here."

Laura laughed, eyes twinkling. "You'd best be prepared to wrestle him away from both of your sons and their wives," she responded.

"Oh, I'm prepared," he replied happily.

Today was the day that Frank and Callie would be able to hold their son for the first time. They had asked for privacy during the day, but had invited the family to visit with them at night. Although they were home as well, they practically lived at the hospital, and Fenton knew they were stressed out and exhausted. But they were also excited and overwhelmed. _Just like all new parents,_ he thought wistfully. _Just with an insane amount of extra obstacles._

"He could be home for good in two or three weeks," Laura added. "Frank and Callie will need all the help they can get, so I hope you're planning on staying over soon."

"I'm moving in," Fenton replied, and Laura squeezed his hand.

"Okay, grandpa," she smiled. "I'm sure Frank and Callie would love that." She smiled at her husband. Truth be told, she totally got it. It WAS like Christmas.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 _Joe and Vanessa's house_

"How are you feeling, honey?" Vanessa asked Joe, who was sitting on their bed looking at the bags all over the room.

He looked up at her and patted a space beside him as he leaned his crutches against the small dresser by their bed. When she sat down, he wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her neck. "I am sooooooo excited!" he said at last when he pulled reluctantly away from her. "I can't wait to see the little guy today!"

Vanessa giggled. "Me, too! What a miracle that baby is," she added.

Joe rubbed her waist. "I call Frank every day and I've spoken briefly to Callie once or twice," Joe told her. "I know how much today means to her. She has a way to go, but she's sounding a little stronger every day. I know how hard last week was for her," he went on, quiet.

Although she had still been in the hospital, she had managed to make it out for a few hours. Frank had finally been able to get Johnny's funeral together. Joe had helped, as the undertaking had been huge. They had managed a private funeral, free of the media, with Johnny's friends and few family members, and he was buried quietly in Bayport Cemetery, where his friends, who had become his family, could visit him.

When the autopsy had come back, it had confirmed everyone's fears; Johnny had died after being given a lethal injection of potassium chloride, Tobias's drug of choice. However, in a strange twist of fate, his knife wound had become infected, leading to sepsis; he was dying anyway. Joe managed the smallest of smiles when he thought of it. It was as if Johnny's final moment of bravery had been to tell Tobias, in some silent way, that he wouldn't have the power he thought he did to take his life. It was a final "F - k' you" to the man who had tried to kill him and failed. It made no rational sense, Joe knew, but he liked to think it was true. Johnny's bravery was unparalleled as he did everything to protect Vanessa and Callie, and his final gift to Callie was that she was in no way responsible for his death- that bullet he had taken for her to save her life had not caused his own death. He had been a hero in so many ways.

"Yeah," Vanessa agreed quietly, wiping an errant tear from her eye. "That funeral was so awful- he was so loved by people. I was a mess," she admitted. Then she met Joe's eyes. "But I still think of Callie. She was still so weak and in pain, and her heart was so broken. But- she didn't even cry, Joe."

Joe nodded, remembering how he had sat next to her when Frank had been speaking, and how she had simply buried her face in his shoulder as he held her. And he also knew that she had a lot more on her mind than she was letting on- she barely uttered a word, couldn't meet people's eyes. He knew that body language as well as he knew himself: unfathomable grief, confusion, and guilt. And something else he couldn't quite place... He made a mental note to talk to her soon about it, because if he didn't, he knew how it could destroy her, as it had done to him, so many years ago. He knew there was nothing he could say, so he'd just kissed her head and offered his sister his physical support. He got it more than anyone else ever would, and now they had another bond, both having had their best friends taken from them so senselessly. Callie was numb, and Joe knew that feeling, or lack thereof, all too well. No, she hadn't cried, because, like him when Iola died, she had cried enough already. It was her heart, not her eyes, overflowing.

"Oh, he would have loved JJ," Vanessa went on in a soft voice. "And I can practically picture what he would have looked like- what the expression on his face would have been- to know that Callie's baby was his namesake."

Joe smiled as well. "Well, we all know I would have fought the guy to make sure it was Joseph Jonathan, not the opposite," he teased, picturing Johnny's response as well.

Vanessa let out a little laugh. "You know Frank and Cal," she replied. "They'd probably name the baby "Jay" and just let you two go on wondering who he was named after, and you'd both be right and they could happily ignore you both!"

Joe nodded and kissed Vanessa's temple. "Think we have enough stuff for them?" he asked, again surveying the room. He and Vanessa had gone out and gladly spent a small fortune on carriages, car seats, diapers, clothing, and all things baby. Vanessa had felt terrible that Callie hadn't had her baby shower, and they would desperately need things at their house. Laura and Fenton, as well as the Shaws and Andrea, and Callie and Frank's numerous friends, would be doing the same thing. Among all of them, little JJ and his parents would be well taken care of- and no one deserved it more.

"Nah," Vanessa replied, wrinkling her nose. "I'll be shopping for little baby clothes every time I go out. I DO think that you set JJ up nicely with all of the sports equipment that he won't need for about five to ten years, though," she teased, catching sight of the the bats, mitts, various sports balls, and other sports items that Joe had managed to sneak in. Her eyes softened when she saw the tiny Nike sneakers Joe had been able to find. And, as small as they were, she knew it would be several months before he would even fit in them.

"You can never start too early," Joe replied happily. "I am so excited to be the coolest uncle ever. I can't wait to hold him."

Vanessa impulsively kissed his cheek. "You're going to make an amazing father one day, you know that?" she said gently.

Joe looked down and bit his lip. He certainly hoped so. Turning back around, he took Vanessa by surprise and pushed her gently back on the bed, leaning over her and caressing her hair tenderly. He kissed her softly at first, but then increased in intensity. Looking at his beautiful wife for a moment, he caught his breath, and murmured in her ear, "How about we get started on that baby making?"

Vanessa moaned slightly. "Are you sure you're up for it?" she managed.

"Oh, I'm definitely up," he responded mischievously, kissing Vanessa's neck.

They managed to make the most of the few hours they had left before visiting the hospital.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 _Frank and Callie's house- morning_

Frank yawned and stretched- 7:30. It had been 1:00 in the morning when they'd arrived from the hospital, and they'd be back in just a few hours. It was exhausting, but also excruciating to be away from JJ. And today- today, he and Callie would hold him, together, for the first time. He thought his heart would burst from excitement.

Callie was resting next to him. Instinctively, he reached over and wrapped his arms around her from behind, spooning her close. He felt her move back against him, and he kissed the back of her head, breathing in the familiar vanilla scent of her shampoo. He was reminded again how very much he loved her, how she truly was his world. Being able to come back to the house late last week and to hold her again all night was indescribable. She had been his greatest gift since they had met, and, now, she had given him the most precious gift he ever could have imagined: his perfect little boy.

She turned slowly and snuggled against him, resting her head against his chest, eyes still closed.

"Morning, baby," he whispered softly.

"Morning," she mumbled against him, scooting even closer.

"Today's the day," he reminded her, and looked down as she opened her beautiful, dark eyes. She smiled and touched his cheek before pulling him to her for a kiss. "Mmmmm. Finally," she whispered.

Slowly, she pulled away from him and sat up. "Frank, I'm so excited!" she said suddenly and looked down at him. She waved her hand in front of her eyes. "I feel like crying!"

Frank sat up as well, hugging her again. "Don't cry, honey," he said tenderly. "It's about time."

"I'm going to take a shower, okay?" she asked as she slowly got out of bed, missing Frank's arms around her instantly. Ever since this nightmare, she couldn't get close enough to him. She needed him physically and emotionally, as she awoke to terrible nightmares, gave in to grief over Johnny and fear over JJ, and tried to overcome the physical pain she was always in. In addition to her ordeal, the after effects of the surgery limited her movement significantly, and she moved much slower than normal. Her bruises weren't fully healed and she was trying to deal with the changes in her body. Somehow, she had to learn to breastfeed and that was a constant area of discomfort and even pain, plus she was having great difficulty with it for many reasons. Her fluctuating hormones made her susceptible to crying one minute, completely overwhelmed, and being overcome by joy the next moment. She had managed to be brave and strong in front of everyone except for Frank, who literally supported her at all times. She didn't know what she would do without him.

"Of course, sweetheart," he answered, and helped her out of bed. "Do you need anything?" he asked, standing next to her.

She smiled in spite of herself. "In the shower?"

Frank blushed slightly. "Just thought I'd check."

Callie felt bad instantly and wrapped her arms around his neck. "In a few more weeks, as soon as I'm cleared, I will invite you into the shower or anywhere else you would like to come with me," she whispered to him. And she meant it. She missed physical intimacy with her husband, craved it more than she could imagine in spite of everything. The hormones weren't helping, either, exacerbating every emotion- she and Frank had always had a very active and passionate physical relationship, and she wanted nothing more than to have that now, as she needed that closeness; that tangible expression of love. Though she couldn't imagine being physically ready at the moment, she looked forward eagerly to the day when she would be. She gave him a lingering kiss.

"Mmmmm," Frank murmured, pulling her even closer. "I'll be counting the days. I love you, baby." She had no idea how much he wanted her...

"I love YOU," she responded, and then reluctantly stepped away from him and made her way to their master bathroom.

After taking a quick, cold shower himself in the guest bathroom, he got dressed and went downstairs to make a fast breakfast for himself and Callie. It was much harder than it should have been with his broken hand- even things like taking a shower were a pain as he had to avoid getting the cast wet. But never in his life had he appreciated an injury more.

As the coffee was warming up, he headed upstairs again and found himself looking into JJ's nursery. He was filled at once with so many emotions- he could hear Johnny's voice on the phone telling him how much he loved it; could picture his dad's face when he saw it for the first time; and could envision Joe's expressions as he complained about building the crib and the rest of the furniture while, deep down, he knew Joe loved every minute of it. The only thing missing was JJ, himself, but very soon he'd be here. He could hardly wait.

In the corner of the room was a pile of presents for the baby that Johnny had brought when he had stayed there. It was still too painful for Callie to look through them, which he understood completely. It had been hard enough when he had to pack away Johnny's suitcases in their attic; when the surfboard he had loved so much had arrived at their house for the funeral and had been placed behind the casket, and it now stood mounted to the wall in the nursery. Callie had cried when she saw that he had done that, but it fit in perfectly, and it seemed very much the right thing to do.

On the rocker, though, was something he hadn't seen before- a manila envelope. Strolling in, he picked it up. " _For my darling Callie and my dear friend, Frank. This is my gift to you, so you can't say no. Remember that. Thank you for being my family. Love, J-"_ Frank's eyes widened. He recognized Johnny's handwriting scrawled on the envelope. Curious, he opened it…

Ten minutes later, he walked, still stunned, into his bedroom. Callie was finishing up drying her hair, and looked up when she saw him. He reached out his hand for her, and she immediately turned off the dryer. He took her hand and led her to their bed.

"Cal," he began slowly, "Sweetheart, I have to talk to you about something."

Callie gasped, and Frank knew what she was thinking immediately. "JJ's fine, honey," he reassured her, and gently rubbed her back.

Callie let out a breath. "Thank goodness," she managed. "You scared me! You look so serious."

Frank nodded and took his arm from around her, showing her the envelope. "Babe, before you left for the city- before everything happened- did Johnny show you this?"

For a brief moment, she was quiet, her heart literally feeling pain when she heard his name. Finally, Callie squinted her eyes, trying to remember, and then it came back to her. "Yes, I think he did," she said softly. "We were having a pretty intense… talk…" she swallowed as the memory came back to her. "We almost argued," she admitted shakily, "but it worked out." She had to pause for a moment, remembering how stressed out she had been, wanting desperately to talk to Frank about her fears about motherhood. It had taken this real tragedy and nightmare for her to realize that Frank had been there all along; that the worst things in life were those you couldn't possibly imagine. She took a deep breath. "He told me that I was his family and all he had left. He gave that to me, and said that we should open it together. He said that he would love our babies forever, and that our children would be the closest he would ever have to having his own. I think he said something about it being a gift and I couldn't argue. I told him I wouldn't. Then he hugged me. Why? Where did you find it?"

"In the nursery."

"I guess I must have put it in there before- you know-" she answered, unable to go on.

"Did you look at it?" Frank asked her, gently, wrapping his good arm around her shoulder as she held the envelope.

"No," she answered, sadly. "He said to wait for you. I forgot about it."

"I think you should," Frank told her, squeezing her shoulder. "It's… incredible."

Callie furrowed her brows as she shakily emptied the contents of the envelope. There was a smaller envelope, which, she now saw, was filled with pictures. She'd definitely have to go through them later. Then, there were all the papers. She looked through them, curious, and then her mouth dropped open. She felt tears spring to her eyes and gasped, dropping the envelope and covering her mouth with her hands.

"I know," Frank whispered, and kissed her head. "I can't believe it."

Johnny had given them a certified copied of his will, and had given them separate access to all of his finances, including his savings and checking accounts, even while he had been alive, trusting them totally not to take advantage of him. His will specifically stated that his fortune was to go to paying for Callie's children's colleges or vocation of choice - a quarter of a million dollars for each child she would have. And he had given Callie and Frank a direct sum of one million dollars. He'd left a note saying that he had more than enough money and it was only the start of his career. What he didn't have was family, until he met Callie. And he told them that it would mean the world to them if he could share his fortune with them, because what good was any of it be if couldn't be shared?

Callie was sobbing by now, and Frank rocked her in his arms. She had a long way to go to even start to heal from Johnny's loss; they all did. His presence was always with them. And for Callie, especially, the grief, he knew, went far beyond what anyone could know. He knew, of course. And he owed Johnny his life, as only she knew. "You're safe," he whispered to her, and he knew it was what she needed to hear. Johnny had protected her twice, and Frank lived to protect her now. Yes, Johnny was giving them his final gift, but Frank couldn't help but to think-he would have given all the money back in a moment to have Johnny with them again.

 _The Hospital- Several Hours Later_

"Are you ready?" the doctor asked, having wheeled JJ, who was currently in an incubator, into a private room outside the NIC-U.

Callie was sitting in a chair, Frank standing behind her. Both were dressed in scrubs, hands having been thoroughly washed and disinfected as well. "More than ready," Frank answered.

The doctor reached into the little container and gently took out the baby, who was swaddled, and who wore the tiniest little hat on his head.

"Here's your beautiful son," he said kindly, and handed him to Callie.

She had been so nervous to hold him, afraid he would break: that she wouldn't know what to do with him, or that she would somehow hurt him. But the instant he was in her arms, it was as if he was born to be there. She rested him against her chest, ignoring her aching body, and touched his cheek tenderly. She inhaled his new baby scent and kissed him over and over again. "Oh, Frank," she whispered, eyes never leaving the baby's face. "I think I'm in love."

Frank gazed at his beautiful wife and child before responding. "I KNOW I'm in love," he answered softly, in awe of his precious little family, and kissed her lips softly. And, when he finally got to hold his son, maneuvering him with his broken hand, he didn't think he'd ever been more proud.

Later, his family would be here to celebrate their joy with him, and he could not have been happier about it. The secret spaces in his heart he had not even known were there were filled at last, and, for now, for the first time in months, he felt at peace.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Alan Cotnig sat in a hotel room in upstate New York. How it had all unraveled so quickly was still beyond him. Years in the making and Fenton Hardy and Ezra Collig remained alive. His co-conspirators, including his brothers, were either locked up or dead. His flawless plan, apparently, _had been_ flawed.

Still, it wasn't a total failure. He had managed to wreak havoc on Collig and the entire Hardy family. Thanks to the death of John Gellers, his name would forever be remembered. All that remained on that front was to see if the television show would, indeed, go on. He hoped so. He always liked surprise endings.

It was too bad, though, that more physical damage hadn't been done. Beyond all expectations- beyond reason, really- Collig had lived and recovered. Fenton Hardy, his two daughters in law, and his grandchild had lived. His sons had managed to escape relatively unscathed. At least they'd always have the psychological damage. There WAS that, and it was something.

After Tobias was beaten to a pulp, he had decided to leave the hospital, and he had arrived here. He knew that the Hardys were starting to get comfortable again; it really wasn't hard to keep an eye on them from afar. He had his sources. Yes- indeed he did.

Good. Let them get comfortable. It would be easier to catch them off guard. And when he did, it would be perfect.

It might take him weeks. It might take him months. It might even take him years. But he would get his revenge. It was a dish best served cold, anyway.

He never started something that he couldn't finish.

 _Never._


	27. Chapter 27

**Author's note at the bottom of the chapter...**

The Secret Spaces

Chapter 27

Conclusion

 _Five Months Later- August- Bermuda_

"I can't believe we're back here," Callie exclaimed happily to her husband as they enjoyed a leisurely stroll along the walkway by the beach. It was an absolutely perfect day- a gentle breeze danced in the air, the cerulean blue ocean a gorgeous backdrop against the pink sand. The hotel they were staying at was the same luxury one at which they had gotten married, and, as they walked, hands loosely intertwined, memories came rushing back at her.

"I know," Frank agreed, stopping at a little bench and motioning Callie to sit down. She did so, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, tilted her face to him, and kissed her tenderly. Looking into her eyes, he smiled. "It seems like a lifetime ago, right?"

"And it's only been - what- a little over two years?" She faced toward the ocean, feeling the breeze ruffle her long blonde hair, and rested her head against Frank's shoulder, contented.

"Can you believe that Joe and Van did this for us?" he asked her, gently rubbing her arm. "I almost didn't believe it when they told us that this is how they wanted to spend their first anniversary -with us- like we did with them."

"Mmmm," Callie agreed, snuggling against him. "And that was the night I also told you I was pregnant."

Frank kissed the top of her head. "Of course. I'll always remember that. May there be many more times to come."

Callie laughed gently. "I wouldn't say MANY more," she teased, closing her eyes and relaxing. "But one or two, yes. Obviously."

"Obviously," he repeated, happy, and rested his head on top of hers.

"I don't know what to do with myself today!" she admitted, opening her eyes slowly. "We haven't had any time away from the baby in forever. I guess we should get used to that," she added shyly. "I should have known that your brother and Vanessa would have stolen him for the day- they've been threatening it for awhile."

"Happy Anniversary to them!" Frank joked. "I know what you mean, though. This might be the first time we get to sleep- for a little- and just have some time alone. We haven't had that since March!"

Callie laughed softly. "I was just thinking about our wedding," she noted. "Remember how we thought no one would come and we ended up with- what was it?- 86 people, I think? I feel like every time we try to do something on a small scale, it never works out. Kind of like this little 4 person - well, I guess 5 person, with JJ- first family vacation."

Frank nodded, smiling. "True. It was the two of us plus Joe and Van. Now, add my mom and dad, your parents, Andrea, Collig and his wife, Biff and his girlfriend, Tony and his wife, Chet and his fiancee, and Pat Merkel and his girlfriend." He couldn't help but to be happy about it, though. After the hell of this year, it was as if everyone sorely needed a vacation, a reason to celebrate- and Joe and Vanessa's anniversary was the perfect occasion. Never ones to turn down a good party, they'd happily agreed to have everyone there. They'd all be meeting up tonight for dinner for the first time, but Joe had practically begged them for a day with the baby, and he and Callie had finally given in- overprotective though they admittedly were, they trusted Joe and Vanessa implicitly, and lord knew the baby was used to having his aunt and uncle around.

"Oh!" Callie exclaimed, sitting up straight again. "I forgot to tell you. I heard back from the lawyer and we're good to go! Next month will be the official launch date. I'm so excited!" She clapped her hands enthusiastically.

Frank laughed and hugged her. "That's great news, sweetheart. I'm happy it finally went through." Frank reflected upon how very much had happened in the past several months, from the nightmare of the abduction and Johnny's death to the new beginnings they all were experiencing. When they had opened the envelope from Johnny and received his fortune, they knew right away that they couldn't keep it all. Other than the money he had directly ceded them and their future children, he still had millions left. Together, they had decided to set up a private, not for profit charity in Johnny's name to help disadvantaged kids get involved in the arts. In that way, his name would live on for his generosity, not just his acting, and more people would know the heart of Johnathan Gellers-who he really was- which far too few people knew in real life.

"That _was_ such a special time," he reminisced. "Johnny and Joe- they were nuts! And then Johnny was such a help with Joe and Van's parties, too. He is-was- so much fun. I think we can leave those little parties off his official bio, though!"

Callie felt the smile drop from her face, unexpectedly emotional. Frank, noting her silence, gently rubbed her shoulder. A clouded look came over her face for an instant, one which happened all too often and which he had not been able to help her navigate successfully. He knew that, despite every evidence to the contrary, and despite being a victim herself, she still felt guilty. And she felt his loss, the extra love and protection he offered her, deeply. He understood. And he hated that. Johnny would have hated it, too. "I miss him, Frank. Every day."

"I know, honey. I miss him, too."

"I don't know if I ever told you everything that he did for me," Callie went on, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I would have died if it wasn't for him." She stopped, voice shaking as the memories assaulted her mind. "He saved my life twice," she said softly, trembling still, after all this time.

Frank kissed her forehead. "Don't go back there, Cal," he replied, concerned. "Baby, I know with every fiber of my being that Johnny did everything he could to protect you. I owe him my life for that. He was that kind of person, and he loved you so much. That was our bond, you know. You CAN tell me, of course. But I think he would want you to remember the good times- how he lived, not how he died. Try to honor that. None of this was your fault, baby. None of it." He knew she needed to hear that.

Callie looked up at him, eyes still bright with tears. "I guess so," she managed. She didn't know if she would ever get over the loss of Johnny, if she was being honest with herself. They had shared so many precious times together- and that awful, horrific time so many years ago- and she knew a large piece of her heart was lost forever. Next to Frank, and now JJ, she loved him most. Of course she did.

Frank smiled sadly. "Johnny and I had football and chess in common; that was about it. Really, he was impulsive and funny like my brother, and was wild and up for anything. On the surface, Joe and Johnny had more in common than we did. But we became great friends, because we had the same values, and, above all, we had _you_ in common." _And he gave you back to me, whole,_ he thought. _There'd been no greater gift._

Frank had to pause for a moment as his own memories of Johnny came flooding back to him. They'd shared a lot of laughs and good times, and he was one of the most down to earth people he had ever known. He shook his head briefly, thinking of how he had _hated_ Johnny at first, how very jealous he had been. He saw the way Johnny spoke to Callie so familiarly, the way she leaned in when he spoke, or the way that he was always so openly demonstrative with her, all little things that he had always assumed only _he_ would share with her. And Johnny had been with Callie when he hadn't been so many years ago; had a secure place in the heart of the woman whom _he_ loved and cherished _._ While he had always been confident in the undeniably strong physical and emotional chemistry he had shared with Callie, Johnny's presence had been a reminder to him that he _could_ lose her to someone else; that he had failed her once. He would spend the rest of his life making damned sure that he wouldn't hurt her again.

He knew logically that he should have been grateful that Johnny had always protected Callie; that he knew her and loved her and was always honest with her. But those were hard feelings to reconcile when he felt in competition for Callie at times- with a rich, funny, very handsome, popular guy. And he wasn't naive- own personal biases aside, Callie was absolutely gorgeous, and he really didn't know how Johnny couldn't have wanted to be with her. No guy was that innocent. Even Callie had shared with him little snippets of Johnny's pretty wild past, and his flings hadn't not been totally relegated to guys, at least for a little bit. He trusted Callie totally, but he didn't trust Johnny at all with her, and his defenses had always been up. But what could he say? Nothing. It was his own damned fault that Callie had even met Johnny. It had been _his_ actions that had precipitated their breakup and had almost caused him to lose the love of his life. So he had shut up about Johnny, had no desire to know him at all, even though he knew that decision, on some level, again caused Callie pain. He couldn't win.

He fought the tears that came whenever he thought of it, even now. He really hadn't understood how the love of his life could love someone almost as much as him; it didn't make sense, as he'd never had any friendship that close, much less one with a female. But then, right after they'd reconciled so many years ago, that Christmas season, she'd shared with him right away, completely vulnerable, the whole story; shared with him what had happened, what role Johnny had played. Then he understood, and had a connection with Johnny too that no one really totally 'got.'. And that was fine-with both of them, because they didn't matter- Callie did- and that was just that.

Once he'd gotten to the core of their relationship, and he knew that Johnny was completely trustworthy, he'd put aside - _that_ \- and just got to know him as a person. It was only when Johnny had asked him to meet up in New York one afternoon to talk over a few beers- that had ended up in _quite_ a few beers- that they had hashed out their issues- that bond forced upon them- and had, in due time, become very close friends as well, just by their personalities. When his parents had died and Johnny was very much alone and thrust into the spotlight, he became like family, seeking refuge and company with him and Callie. She had been so happy when she realized that he was finally accepting of her friendship with Johnny and even more excited, relieved, and touched when she saw that he and Johnny were fast becoming not only friends, but also very good friends. Frank had found himself genuinely liking the fun loving, off the wall guy who reminded him very much of his own brother, both in demeanor and fierce loyalty. And other than what had happened in the past, their unbreakable bond, maybe that's why Callie had been drawn to him, he realized now. Just as she had grown to love and understand Joe, she must have seen in Johnny, too, more than the facade he showed to the world.

As if she could read his thoughts, he heard her say, "Thanks for never being jealous, babe," she answered at last.

Frank let out a small snort in spite of himself, and Callie stared at him, puzzled. "Cal, of COURSE I was jealous of him! For a while, at least. He had you for a year and a half, when you met... a time I never want to think about again," he added, seriously, his heart still pained when he thought of that terrible time. She nodded, unconsciously moving closer. "And don't think for a second that I didn't think about the fact that, if he wasn't gay, you might very well have ended up with him. I still can't think about that...or that time... Anyway..." Frank's voice trailed off before he resumed his thoughts, "you _didn't_ end up together, and what you did end up with was one of the best people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. And I am so sorry that this- everything-happened. I will forever feel guilty that I couldn't..."

"Shh," Callie cut him off, placing a finger on his lips. "There is nothing to feel guilty about. You did everything you could, honey. So did Joe. So did your dad. Please know that I know that. And while you know I loved Johnny so very much, gay or straight, we never would have ended up together. I always loved _you_. It's that simple."

Frank smiled and kissed her finger. "We've had a lifetime of memories. I'm excited for more- all good."

Callie agreed. "I loved our wedding!" she added wistfully. "From the crazy bachelor and bachelorette parties to the absolutely most perfect ceremony ever," she cleared her throat as she envisioned how handsome Frank had been, how excited she had been, "it was the probably the best day of my life. Well, next to JJ's birth," she added. "Though I would say his actual birth, not the whole day or its circumstances, comprised that special time."

Frank chuckled. "That night was pretty great, too," he teased her, and Callie covered her face with her hands, blushing. "STOP," she said, laughing herself. "Wasn't it so worth it, though, waiting the six months? Didn't it make that night amazing?"

Frank was still laughing as he wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her close. "Cal, I love you dearly, and yes- it _was_ a really special night- but NO- six months was a really long time to wait. Heck, the months after the baby was born were bad enough! So," he added in a low voice, "we need to take advantage of every moment we can." He nuzzled her neck, planting a few well placed kisses there as well.

Callie, still blushing, squirmed out of his arms, stood, and reached down for his hand. "Come on. We only have a few more hours until the anniversary dinner."

Squinting, Frank looked up at her and took her hand as he stood next to her. "To do what?" he asked.

She suddenly put her arms around his neck and ran her fingers through his hair. "Well," she said in a low voice, dark eyes twinkling as she raised her brows suggestively, "we could... watch tv," or… and she whispered in his ear words that brought a blush to his cheeks and caused a low moan to escape his lips.

"Option 2, please," he whispered huskily, pulling her into him as he kissed her deeply, mentally calculating just how long it would take to get back to their hotel room. It couldn't come soon enough.

 _Click. Click. Click._

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"Come here. Yes you can. Yes you _can_ ," Joe cooed at his nephew, who was kicking happily on the bed.

"Van! Look! There he goes!" he exclaimed proudly, watching JJ start to roll from his back to his tummy, getting red in the face as he struggled.

"Aw, Joe- stop!" Vanessa laughed. "Pick the little guy up. He's having a hard time."

"No way," Joe countered, eyes never leaving JJ's adorable face. "They say that babies don't really do it this way until they're five or six months. And yeah- he's five months- but he's that adjusted age thing that preemies go by. Look at him go- he's a freaking prodigy!"

Finally, JJ rolled over, and the startled look on his face made both Joe and Vanessa dissolve into laughter.

"You did it, buddy!" Joe said, picking him up and holding him in front of his face. "Good job!" He wiggled him in the air, still elated to be holding his nephew.

JJ started sticking his tongue out and moving his head to the side. "Uh oh," Joe proclaimed in horror. "I don't have _those_ , little guy- but I DO have a bottle!"

Vanessa snorted as JJ started to cry, and she put some water in a tea cup, pressed the button on the microwave, and heated the water enough to dump the bottle inside to warm it up. Vanessa looked at Joe, love filling her heart. He wasn't even fazed by the crying. Instead, he was dancing JJ around the room and finally holding him up by the window, talking nonstop about the cute girls down there and how JJ could've been his wingman if not for Aunt Vanessa. She felt her eyes fill with tears.

"Here you go," she said, walking over to him and handing him the bottle, which Joe immediately gave to the baby, who started sucking with abandon. "Kid's got an appetite like his uncle!"Joe said proudly. Then he shuddered, looking at Vanessa. "I don't know how women can deal with that," he admitted.

"What? A bottle?" she asked, confused.

"No- you KNOW," he emphasized, and then Vanessa burst out laughing. "Breast feeding?!" she asked. "Because it's natural and beautiful and doesn't last forever, that's why."

"I guess," Joe said doubtfully.

"No- really," she continued. "And trust me; Callie feels bad that she's already supplementing with formula half the time, just because she's had to be on so many medications that'd affect the baby. She's finally better, thank goodness, but I'm sure she would have liked to be able to do it more consistently. Besides, there ARE benefits. Look at Callie," Vanessa went on. "Somehow, she slipped back into her size nothing right away, and now her body is even more bangin'- she's always been hot, but now she has even fuller-"

"STOP!" Joe exclaimed in horror. He physically trembled for a minute as Vanessa wiped her eyes from laughing so hard. "That is my SISTER you're talking about. I don't need to think about her body or whatever she and my brother do. UGH. And I would never go around and say, 'Van, Biff is so freaking hot. Look at his pecs.' Who DOES that?!"

Vanessa was still laughing. "Women do. And I think it's pretty obvious what your brother thinks of Callie- evidence #1 is in your arms! But I won't mention it again if it makes you uncomfortable."

"Thank you!" he replied, relieved.

She walked over to him and kissed his cheek, falling in love with him all over again, as she did all the time, especially in moments like this, when she was reminded again of what a great father he was one day going to be…

"Isn't he beautiful, Van?" Joe said in a low voice. JJ's eyes were starting to close, bottle still in his mouth. "I can't wait til he can actually do things!"

Joe was right. He _was_ gorgeous, the picture of innocence and love. With his dark eyes and dark hair, even at this tender age, he was starting to look a lot like Frank- and he was the cutest little infant she had ever seen; a real life Gerber baby if ever there had been one. "He DOES do things," she said gently. "But I know what you're saying."

Joe removed the bottle and put it on the dresser as he stared at the baby and gently touched his little hands, one of which had closed around Joe's finger and had melted his heart. He walked to the porta crib and gently placed JJ in there, tucking a blanket around him. Then he turned to Vanessa, and pulled her into a lingering kiss. "Happy Anniversary, Babe," he said to her, gently tucking her hair behind her ear.

He touched her cheek as he looked into her eyes, his heart feeling a thousand emotions at once. "I love you, Van," he said huskily. "Thank you for agreeing to be my wife exactly one year ago. I'm a lucky man."

"I'm the lucky one," Vanessa replied. And she meant it.

"Come here," he said, voice low, pulling Vanessa into him. He started to unbutton her shirt, kissing her passionately, when, all of a sudden, JJ started crying loudly, causing Joe and Vanessa to jump apart.

"UGH," Joe groaned. "Really, buddy?" he asked, turning to him, and, breathing hard, he picked him up, where the baby immediately snuggled into Joe's chest. "You have to let your bros have a little girl time, J-," he went on. He kissed the top of his head. "I guess you're right. That isn't anything you need to know about- not yet. I don't want to corrupt you so soon."

He looked at Vanessa apologetically, and was stunned when he saw her wiping away tears.

"Oh, Babe, I'm sorry," he stammered. "Tonight- I swear!" I-"

"It's not that," she said softly. "It's just that you're going to be the most amazing father."

Joe smiled, cradling JJ close, and then almost froze. "What?" he asked.

"I'm pregnant," she said, simply. "I thought I'd wait until today to tell you. We're having a baby!"

Joe stared at her for a minute, and then turned and laid JJ down again, ignoring his newly invigorated crying. "Really?!" he asked, feeling his lips trembling and tears filling his eyes. He went to her and hugged her tightly.

"I'm only five weeks along," she went on, "and I know it's kinda soon to tell anyone. But I thought we could- you know-tell the people here with us. They're the people we love most in the world, right?"

Joe felt his heart swell with joy, tears spilling over as he pulled Vanessa to him, running his fingers through the back of her hair. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her deeply. "I've wanted to be a dad for so long," he choked out. "I love you. I..." he paused, at a total loss for words, completely overjoyed.

"I know," she responded.

The baby's cries grew louder. Reluctantly, Joe released her and picked JJ up again. His face was red from crying, and his little tear-stained cheeks were so cute Joe couldn't even get upset. As soon as Joe held him, he quieted down, staring at him.

"Oh, boy," Joe chuckled, looking at him with love. "You have your daddy's curiosity, don't you? You know something's up." He walked JJ to the bed, where he gently laid him down, stretching out next to him before picking him back up and resting him on his chest. Vanessa laid next to him and gently touched the baby's head.

"Aunt V and I have a secret, but you can't tell anyone, okay, J?" he said."Promise?"

JJ kept his focus on Joe.

"You're going to have a cousin, buddy!" he whispered, gently, reaching for Vanessa's hand. "And you'll be best friends, like your daddy and me are. What do you think about that?"

And then, to Joe and Vanessa's utter astonishment, he smiled.

 _Click. Click. Click._

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That night, they had arranged for dinner on the beach. Joe looked around, heart filled with joy, as he listened to his friends and family laugh and talk, relaxing on hammocks and chairs as they waited for dinner to be served. He took a moment to take it all in. His parents, playing with JJ, love in their eyes, next to the Colligs, who were talking about their own grand kids. The Shaws talking and laughing with Andrea. Vanessa was speaking with Pat and his girlfriend, looking so excited. He smiled.

The various couples spread out, some of whom were playing volleyball on the beach as the light waned in the distance. Frank and Callie, arms around each other, were staring out at the ocean, completely content. Well, that wouldn't do. He jogged over to them just as Frank was pulling Callie in for a kiss, literally inserting himself between them. "Oh, Frank, you're sooooo romantic," he called out in a high voice as Frank smacked him and Callie laughed.

"Hey!" Joe protested. "I just wanted to remind you about PDA," he cautioned.

Frank shook his head disdainfully. Joe and Vanessa practically had to get a room whenever they were out in public most of the time. Callie just went with it, eyes sparkling. "You're right Joe. We were inappropriate and we apologize."

"Thank you," Joe said, holding back a smile as Frank just stared at him.

Joe slipped an arm around Callie's slim shoulders and gave her a quick hug. She looked relaxed, happy, and content- and absolutely beautiful, almost glowing. He was thrilled. She had fought a long, hard battle and had won it, and he could not have been happier.

She slipped an arm around his waist. "Look around, Joe," she said happily. "Everyone is here because they all love you and Vanessa so much. It's like the rated G version of our bachelor party!"

Joe laughed. "Maybe- MAYBE- if we can get our parents to watch JJ, we can re-enact that night…" he suggested.

"No way! I'm too old," Frank started as Callie said, "I'm down."

"Yeah, sis!" he said, surprised. "I love it! I knew you were the fun one in your relationship."

Frank shook his head. "Cal? Really?"

"Hey," she said to him, "I'm full of surprises. You know that."

The way she said it, combined with the wink she gave him, made Frank blush and Joe burst out laughing. Anything to give Frank a hard time was always good with him.

"I take it you made the most of this afternoon?" he asked, innocently.

"Mmmm," Callie agreed. "It was-"

"Callie!" Frank cried, aghast, as both Callie and Joe continued to laugh at him.

Callie, completely out of character, walked back to Frank and kissed him, right in front of Joe. "I love you, baby," she said. And then she went back to Joe as he continued to chuckle, wondering if Callie had enjoyed the wine too much, before he remembered that she couldn't really drink since she was nursing JJ. She stood on tiptoe and gave Joe a quick kiss on the cheek. "And I love you, too, in the absolutely most platonic way possible," she said, a sparkle in her eyes. "Thanks for being my #2 guy and the brother I never had... and, I'm sure, the world's coolest uncle." She squeezed his hand briefly. "I'm going to see Vanessa now. Happy Anniversary!" She turned quickly before leaving. "And before you talk about me, there's nothing weird going on! I'm just really happy to be back in Bermuda, with my amazing family whom I love so much. Life's too short not to say it, right?" She knew that better than anyone, her blessings so abundant.

"Yes, it is," Joe agreed softly and gave her a small wave.

He turned to Frank and slung an arm around his shoulders. "You have my permission. Keep her," he said.

Frank rolled his eyes but smiled. "Yeah, I will. Thanks. I was really anxious you wouldn't let me."

"Sure thing," Joe replied, with a smile. "Hey, listen- do you have some time? Dinner will be served in about 10 minutes, and I kind of wanted to have a little time alone with you."

Frank looked at him, puzzled. "Yeah, sure. Of course."

Joe sat on the sand and indicated for Frank to do the same. "How ARE you?" he asked Frank.

"Uh- I'm fine," Frank answered. When Joe didn't answer, Frank asked casually, "How was your day with my boy?"

Joe's face relaxed considerably. "I love that kid. He's the cutest thing. Oh! I didn't tell you-he rolled over."

"Oh yeah?" Frank asked. "I know he's been trying. I can't believe we missed that!"

Joe laughed at the crestfallen look on Frank's face. "Don't be too disappointed, bro. Obviously your kid likes impressing his uncle, but I'm sure he'll do it a thousand more times. Besides," he went on, mischievously, "I'd say that you and Callie weren't missing him too much this afternoon..."

Frank turned bright red, and Joe chuckled. Then, he decided to get more serious. He only had a few moments and he did have a lot to say. He sighed before continuing. "Frank, the Cotnig case- that was the hardest case I've ever had to deal with," he started, honestly. "The craziness of murder; the patterns; the ABC order; the secret spaces; it really shook me," he admitted.

'Of course it did," Frank replied, reaching over and gently rubbing his brother's back.

"It was so hard," Joe went on, voice shakier than he thought it would be after all of these months. "I almost lost all of the people I love most in the world, and I…"

"Go on," Frank encouraged.

"I realized how much I rely on you, you know? I didn't know what to do when I saw you hurting, when I saw you lose your temper or break down. I didn't know what to do when I saw what you did with Tobias- I mean, obviously, I fully support you in that, but… I guess what I'm trying to say is, you became _me_ for a little bit. And I kind of didn't know how to handle not having YOU. Does this make any sense?" he asked, embarrassed.

Frank was quiet for a minute as he thought, still rubbing Joe's back in comfort. "I'm sorry, Joe," Frank replied quietly. "I did- I lost myself for a bit. I'm sorry if I let you down."

"You didn't let me down!" Joe emphasized. "You don't understand. I saw you with your guard totally down, and you still held it together far better than I would have. That's not my point."

Frank gave a small smile. "You would have been fine. You don't give yourself enough credit, Joe. You're a tough kid."

Joe had to smile. Only Frank could still call him a kid in a totally serious manner. "My point, Frank, is that I know I give you a hard time and I'm a pain in the ass, but you are still- after everything- my best friend and really the best older brother I could have asked for."

Frank blushed.

Joe went on. "You always help me out and give me advice and lead by example. And I'm telling you this now because I'm going to need a lot of advice soon."

"Why?" Frank asked, puzzled.

"Well, most everyone will find out in about a half hour, and Callie is probably finding out now from Vanessa, and- to be honest- JJ knows-"

"Joe, what on earth are you talking about?" Frank queried."JJ knows what?!"

"Vanessa's pregnant, Frank. I'm going to be a dad!" he exclaimed, unable to stop the smile from lighting up his face. He was so excited he thought he would burst, and he'd wanted to tell Frank before anyone.

"Really?"! Frank asked, his own face breaking out into a huge smile. "Are you serious?"

"Totally!" Joe responded. Frank reached over and hugged him tightly. When he pulled back, Joe was shocked to see his eyes bright with tears. "Well, that's just the second best news I've heard in a long time!" He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'm so thrilled for you, little brother," he added. "Your life will never be the same. It's the greatest gift on earth. Oh, boy," he added with a smile. "I guess I'm being recruited for that primary color explosion you wanted in the nursery!"

Joe smiled, wiping away his own tears. "I hadn't thought that far ahead, but obviously, bro. No neutral classy color scheme for me! Remind me to brighten up JJ's room. Anyway, what was the first best news? JJ being okay?" he asked.

"Well, YES," Frank said. "That- and, believe it or not, we just found out- Callie is actually pregnant again."

"What?!" Joe cried out. "I- I mean-"

"Shhhh," Frank replied, laughing. "You CANNOT tell ANYONE-other than Vanessa. And not tonight. This is your night."

"But-how?!"

Frank shot him an amused look.

"That's not what I mean!" Joe replied, overjoyed. "I mean, JJ is only 5 months old."

"And _we_ are only 13 months apart," Frank pointed out. "My kids will be further apart than we are."

"Did you plan it that way?" Joe asked, incredulous.

"Absolutely not," Frank replied, more serious. "Callie's doctor is actually kind of upset about it. That's why we're not telling anyone yet. Callie went through hell with the last pregnancy, even before … everything. She's susceptible to a lot of issues, and it's actually kind of dangerous for her to have gotten pregnant so quickly...and we need to make sure that… you know, please God… that the baby will be okay and that she'll be able to carry it to term. But we have faith."

Joe wiped back his own tears. "The two of us have pretty insane anniversaries, huh?" he finally managed.

Frank smiled. "Remember, not a word to anyone other than Van. You deserve this night and this time to celebrate." He hugged Joe again, and then got to his feet and gave him their old silly handshake. "Let's go," he said, slinging an arm around Joe. "I can't wait to see the looks on mom and dad's and Andrea's faces."

"Me, too," Joe agreed. "I'm glad we're in this together," he admitted.

"Always," Frank replied with a smile.

 _Click. Click. Click._

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Alan Cotnig put his camera down at last. It had been a long, but very worthwhile day. They were all here. It was perfect.

He watched as the cheers of joy erupted, as the night went on, and everyone gathered in joy, laughing, holding each other close, dancing.

He glanced at his book of poetry that he kept with him at all times and opened it to the pre-selected page. There were patterns in poetry, order, that few could see- but they were there. Frost. Yes, he'd always admired him, a man who seemed so familiar, but was far more complex than met the eye. It was the seeming simplicity that got him: "We dance round in a ring and suppose, / But **the Secret sits** in the middle and knows."

Yes. It knows.

He closed the book. The secret would come out soon enough. And it would be glorious.

-The End (for now)-

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 **Note:** _First of all, I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed writing this story. It was a process for me to develop a solid mystery while focusing on characterization and trying to age the Hardys in an appropriate way true to how I believe they would be. To that end, I cannot emphasize how much your support has meant along the way. It's very easy as an author to get discouraged when people don't leave feedback, because writing really takes a piece of your heart and you put your ideas "out there," for good or bad, and hope there is a positive reception to them. That's why I always have my stories completed before I post a single chapter-so I can stay focused on the story and stand behind it, no matter what. THANK YOU A MILLION TIMES to everyone who has been kind enough to leave a review and/or to follow the story. It means so much to me and I will treasure each comment._

 _Second, the following people have been such amazing supporters, and have commented along the way- on some or all chapters-and I would like to thank you all again (yes, it's in alphabetical order, because that's just me!): Allie B, Barb, BeeBee18, Caranath, East Blue, Erin Jordan, EvergreenDreamweaver, Hero 76, hbndcbbliw4ever, hbndgirl, hlahabibty, Guests (various) Jilsen, Laurie Q, Max2013, ulstergirl, merryw, Paulina Ann, Red Hardy, SnowPrincess 88, and Tin Dog. So many of you are prolific writers in your own right, and I am humbled that you took the time to review my work. And for the non -writers, your support is really incredible and means so much, and I am so happy you've followed along and enjoyed my writing._

 _Finally, I couldn't let this story just end, and its sequel is completed. It is 32 chapters long and is by far my biggest endeavor and most mature work to date. Remember how I said that Johnny had to die? You'll understand that in the next story. I hope you'll stick around for it, and it will be posted by the first week in June. Please look out for it and follow if you so desire.. It's called "The Stages of Conviction", and I am very excited to post it._

 _And, in the meantime, because the follow up was so intense, I needed a little break. In a few days, I'll post my first and only one-shot called "Alternate Plans," which takes place immediately after "First Encounters" and before "The Secret Spaces." It's about Joe and Vanessa's bachelor/ bachelorette parties, since several of you PM'd me and asked for a little Joe story, so- here you have it. It's light and fun and has no mystery whatsoever. I hope you enjoy it._

 _Thanks so much! :)_

 _-Cheryl_


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